Yuuri's Hot Date
by jinjyaa
Summary: Wolfram and Yuuri's engagement breaks off so Yuuri can finally face his doubts about never having dated a girl. Unfortunately, a new girl's in town looking for a husband. And she could be Wolfram's twin.
1. A Little Wager

**Kyou Kara Maou – Yuuri's Hot Date**

Summary: Wolfram challenges Yuuri to have a date with a girl. Loosely part of my Epilogue story arc.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to _Kyou Kara Maou_ of course.

Author's Note: This is part of a story arc, but mostly stands alone. Please see my profile homepage link for the whole arc and illustrations and story summaries.

For those who've read the _Epilogue_ arc, this story takes place between _Wolfram Takes a Break_ and _The Trouble with Trolls_.

**Chapter 1 – A Little Wager**

"_WELL, I WOULDN'T KNOW, WOULD I?_" yelled Yuuri, nose inches from Wolfram's. "I've never _kissed_ a girl! I was stuck engaged to _you_ before I ever had a date with _anybody!_"

"_Stuck_ with me?!" Wolfram screamed back, eyes blazing dangerous green fire. "Well, maybe it's about time you tried someone else!" Wolfram flounced onto the bed backward, glaring at his twenty year old black-haired fiancé of five years. "Maybe _then_ you'd be able to appreciate what a good thing you have going!" Wolfram arrayed himself in his pink nightgown in his sexiest pose, peering at Yuuri past artfully bared satiny thigh and shin. It was a mixed message. His demonic green glower said, _Come near me, and I kick you in the teeth!_

Yuuri's left eyebrow twitched up several times in anger. "Are you _challenging_ me? Be _very_ careful what you challenge me to do, Wolfram von Bielenfeld!"

"You. Couldn't. Get. A date. If you tried. _Wimp!_" Wolfram spat out, eyes narrowed. "But _I_ could. _As many as I wished!_"

"Of _course_ I couldn't get a date! Who the hell would_ look_ at me, knowing your insane, psychotic fits of jealousy!"

"Oh, is _that_ all that's stopping you!" screeched Wolfram. "Very well, _Sire_. I will announce to the castle that for the next two weeks, _His Majesty_ and I have decided to take a _break_ from being engaged. To date others, to make certain whether we should marry each other. You have two weeks to kiss a girl and _find out_."

As usual, Yuuri's anger cooled long before Wolfram's. "You don't mean that. Wolfram –"

"_I mean it!_" Wolfram abruptly twitched his nightgown back down over his sexy shin, then rose from the bed. He headed for the wardrobe and yanked out a change of clothes for the morning. "Two weeks, Yuuri. Get kissed, get _laid_ if you can. This is your last chance, and mine. Both of us date as many people as we want. Let's see who scores the most in two weeks. Dates. Kisses. Sex. Bet I'll beat you. _By a mile!_"

"Hey! _Wolfram!_ I did _not_ agree to this!" Yuuri yelled, as Wolfram closed their bedroom door behind him on his way out.

Yuuri stood staring at the door undecided, chest heaving, for a few moments, then resolved that it was beneath him to storm out after Wolfram. "Mercurial _vicious_ little _vixen!_" he muttered, and threw himself onto the bed. He punched a pillow, then hugged it tight as if in apology for being mean to it. He glowered at the glasses of water Wolfram had set out on their nightstands, every night before bed without fail. He frowned at the way both sides of the bed had blankets neatly turned down, inviting and cozy. His nose twitched in distaste as he realized the pillow he was hugging smelled of Wolfram's ginger-pineapple scented evening bath oil. _The whole damned bed smells of Wolfram._

Casting the pillow aside, he flopped over on his back and stared at the ceiling. _And now that he's climbed out on this silly limb, he won't give in, can't admit it was a mistake, can't apologize. Bloody hell. How do I get him to back down and call this thing off?_ _Or do I even want him to?_

That thought shocked him into sitting upright, cross-legged and staring at the windows. _Of course I want to call it off. Don't I?_ The whole thing was a stupid argument, like a thousand others. Who knew why? Maybe Greta told Wolfram to stay out of her bedroom. Maybe Bertram had peed on him, or Frieda had colored on the wall, or Efram had teased him a little too hard. It had nothing to do with Yuuri, as usual. There was no reason whatsoever for their engagement to be… _put aside_ for two weeks. To date other people? To kiss a girl? _Absurd! Of course I want to call this off! I just need to find a way to gentle him down, apologize for… make something up to apologize for… give him flowers… tell him there's no one but him… I can't imagine kissing anyone but him…_

"That's _pathetic_, Yuuri," he said aloud to himself. _Well. It's true,_ a part of him replied. _You can't imagine kissing anyone else. _"He's right, Yuuri, you _are_ a wimp." _You're certainly a wimp if you fix every argument by apologizing, when you didn't do anything to apologize for. _

"Can I really not imagine kissing anyone but him?"

Experimentally, Yuuri brought the side of his fist to his lips, and kissed the fleshy part below the thumb and forefinger. He imagined the feel of … Wolfram's lips. _No, you have to imagine somebody else._ Lips poised an inch from his fist, he considered. _Conrad?_ He flinched back another inch from the fist. _No, that would be unforgiveable. That would lie between Conrad and Wolfram like poison forever, and destroy my friendship with Conrad. Besides, you want to kiss a girl, don't you?_

Yuuri flinched even farther back from the fist. "Do I?" _Yes, actually, you do. You've never kissed a girl. Never held a girl, touched her curves that way. Admit it. You're curious._ He looked guiltily at the door, the turned down bed, as though to assure himself he really was in the privacy of his own mind. Exploring the unthinkable. The unspeakable.

_Yeah. I do want to. And not just kiss a girl. I don't know about… how far I'd want to go after that… but – I do want to. I want to find out._ He gulped. _But I won't. I love Wolfram too much to do that. I want to marry Wolfram. Curiosity is worth nothing compared to our love together, our life together. I don't imagine making love to girls, because I'm head-over-heels for Wolfram, and when I imagine… making love… I imagine him. As it should be. _

_Right?_

"He'll back down by morning," Yuuri whispered, shushing out the lights and climbing into bed. _And if he doesn't? _ Yuuri huddled uncomfortable with that thought. _Are you being faithful to him, even in the privacy of your own mind, because you really can't imagine kissing a girl? Or even another guy? He didn't specify only girls. Wolfram himself might go after guys… Or because –_

"Because it's a bad idea," whispered Yuuri to himself, face scrunched in pain as though to cry. "It's a really, _really_ bad idea."

_So you'll cave in, wimp out, apologize for nothing just to allow him to back down? Wimp. So that for the rest of your life, you can continue being a wimp? Wimp. You'll never kiss a girl? You know that question won't ever go away. But you won't look at it. Because you're a wimp. Wimp!_

_Yeah. OK. I'm a wimp. Because being a wimp is the right thing to do._

But no one would thank him for being a wimp. Neither Wolfram nor he himself would respect him for his choice. So be it. Yuuri huddled miserably in his Wolfram-scented covers and counted sheep until he drifted off to sleep, stubbornly refusing to imagine kissing Wolfram or anybody else.

-oOo-

"What, did Yuuri kick you out?" Wolfram's younger half-brother Efram ran into him in the halls, as Wolfram hunted for another bedroom to claim, tell-tale change of clothes in his arms.

Wolfram glared at him. "I stomped out. We're… taking a two week break from our engagement. To date other people."

"Like hell you are," said Efram, eyes wide in amused disbelief.

"_We. Are,_" Wolfram insisted. "Yuuri's never had a date with anyone but me, never kissed a girl… He keeps… _thinking_ about it. Before we get married, _I_ say he should resolve those questions once and for all!" Wolfram's anger was beginning to cool as he explained this. A cold breath of sanity was lapping at his neck, whispering, _This is a very bad idea_, and his stomach was doing a queasy floppy thing, but he firmly ignored those.

Efram stared at him, then shook his head. "Nah, you'll sleep on it and come to your senses, then apologize to Yuuri at dawn before he can act on it." He waived a come-along arm and showed Wolfram to a room he knew to be available, still thinking this all rather funny.

"I don't have to apologize," Wolfram smirked. "He will."

Efram glared at him in distaste. "Aren't _you_ glad Chichiue's out of town. It's bad enough that you _let_ Yuuri apologize for your mistakes. You don't have to _brag_ about it." If their father heard Wolfram's quip, Efram was sure Manfred's biting comments would flay Wolfram to the bone.

"_In any case_, I'm going to go through with it, whether he apologizes or not," said Wolfram, passion losing ground to a rather sad variety of resolve.

"No, vixen, you're not," replied Efram. "It's only 9:30 at night. If you were going through with it, you'd hit the castle bath scene instead of heading into bed for a good cry. Want me to stay with you and pat your back?"

Wolfram wheeled on him, grateful to have his anger rekindled. "The gay night bath scene! What a good idea! _Thank you_, pixie!" And he slammed the door in Efram's face.

In dismay, Efram hammered on the door. "Hey, Wolfram! Wolfram? I wasn't trying to goad you into anything. It was an observation, not a challenge! Wolfram?" He'd given up and was slowly walking away when Wolfram emerged from the room, clad only in a towel.

"Want to hit the baths with me, pixie?" Wolfram asked, demonic green eyes glittering dangerously. "Oh, no, I forgot! Chichiue's forbidden you in the castle baths after 9:00 o'clock. Sorry!"

An unhappy Efram watched Wolfram stride away in his skimpy towel. He wished his father _was_ home at Blood Pledge Castle. Though he knew what Manfred would say if he was. _Perhaps you should mind your own business, fire pixie. It's their sex life._ Efram sighed. _And he'd be right._ So Efram went on about his own business, and didn't mention this conversation to anybody.

-oOo-

"Looking pretty grumpy this morning, Yuuri," observed Conrad, tossing a baseball. Though his elevation to the Eleven Aristocrats brought duties that took him away from the castle a lot, he and Yuuri still ran and played ball in the mornings when he was home. "Anything I can help with?"

Yuuri smiled a bright false smile and indicated Conrad should toss the ball. "Nah, just… didn't sleep very well."

Conrad nodded companionably and threw, waiting. After a few passes, Yuuri continued, "It's just… Wolfram." Conrad nodded companionably and passed the ball. After a few more passes, Yuuri continued, "It's silly." Conrad nodded with a searching gaze, a little concerned – it didn't usually take Yuuri this many false starts to say something.

All in a rush, Yuuri blurted, "Our engagement's been put on _hold_. For two weeks, we're free to date anybody. No, _not_ free. We're having a _contest_. Who can bag the most kisses, dates, and… It's _his_ crazy idea. But he says it's for me, because I've never dated anyone but him." Conrad narrowly escaped being crowned by a vicious fast ball. "But _I_ don't want this. But unless _he_ apologizes and stops it, _I_ have to apologize for something _he _cooked up, like always, or he won't back down!"

That fast ball, Conrad ducked altogether. Yozak was passing behind and caught it. "Yowza!" he commented, lobbing the ball back to Yuuri with a gentle underhand. He walked over to join them with a grin. "I was wondering how you'd look this morning, Sire. Have any dates lined up yet?"

Yuuri held the ball and stared at Yozak. "How did you know about that?"

Yozak's eyebrows rose. "It's all over the castle, Sire. Wolfram told everyone about your contest last night in the baths." Actually the word came out _baaaa – ths_, as Yozak realized in mid-word that this was perhaps bad news. But…

"The baths. Last night," repeated Yuuri, cold and flat, with narrowed eyes. The Blood Pledge Castle gay bath scene was notorious throughout Shin Makoku. Well, females came too, sometimes, or so Yuuri was told. He'd never happened in except by accident. He was sure Wolfram would geld him if he went anywhere near it. There was no reason save one to go to those late night baths.

"Um," chorused Yozak and Conrad, looking at each other in dismay. Yuuri was older now. He looked more and more these days as he did in full Maou mode. His face was still a bit softer, the eyes a bit bigger, but mostly there was no comparison between his gentle, loving, happy Yuuri face, and his Maou-mode stern visage of judgment. But right now… Yuuri wasn't flashing the blue lightning of Maou mode. He was still Yuuri. Yet his wrathful narrowed eyes and cold face looked… Maou.

In all his internal debates last night, Yuuri realized he hadn't considered how he'd feel about _Wolfram_ dating others for the next two weeks. In truth, if he had, back then, last night, he probably would have panicked and hunted Wolfram down to grovel and apologize right then and there.

But last night just turned into ancient history.

Yuuri tossed the ball back to Conrad and put his glove under his arm. "Well, gentlemen, I have two weeks to bag as many dates as I can. I'd best be about it. If you'll excuse me." And he stalked off to find his breakfast.

And a girl to date.

-oOo-

_Ideas on who Wolfram and Yuuri should date? Where to find dates other than the gay bath scene?_

_Please review?_


	2. The Morning After

**Kyou Kara Maou – Yuuri's Hot Date**

Summary: Wolfram challenges Yuuri to have a date with a girl. Loosely part of my Epilogue story arc.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to _Kyou Kara Maou_ of course.

**Chapter 2 – The Morning After**

No, Yuuri didn't have a decisive plan when he left Conrad and Yozak in the courtyard. His adrenaline surge simply bid him run away. But heading straight in to face Wolfram over breakfast with their children, heart hammering and palms sweating, struck Yuuri as going straight from the frying pan into the … fire user. Instead he stalked purposefully into his office, closed the door, and leaned his back on it, chest heaving, trying to calm down.

_A plan. I need a plan._ His face set in angry stone remembering his previous plan – groveling like always, after venting a little to compassionate Conrad. _That was before my so-called **beloved** headed for the gay baths to score with as many men as he could find. _

_I need a plan to find a date. I will date a girl. Who knows. Maybe I'll even fall in love with someone who doesn't use me as an emotional whipping boy. Fancy that._

Yuuri wasn't prone to making up his mind lightly. He tended to keep an open mind until the last possible moment. Indeed, Wolfram had often quipped that Yuuri's mind was so wide open it was a wonder anything ever managed to lodge in it at all. Yet when Yuuri decided, he **_decided_**. With every fiber of his being, his whole heart and mind.

_A girl. And not just any girl. I refuse to play Wolfram's game – I'm playing **mine**. I choose to date one girl, a girl I care about, a girl I want to kiss, someone I may want to do more than kiss. I may need more than one date before I find that girl. That's the way my parents explained it to me, and that's the way it should be._

_How?_

_Damn. I never thought I'd miss having Cheri and Manfred around. This world's foremost experts at free love… No, they're Wolfram's parents. I wouldn't ask them even if they were here._

_Gwendal's more clueless than I am. And he and Conrad are Wolfram's brothers. And Conrad and Yozak are lovers. Günter's single, but gay as summer fireflies. I don't want to talk about this with the women. Surely there are _straight_ men in this castle?_

_Adelbert von Gratz. And Ted von Trondheim. So, OK, they're Manfred's bestest buddies. That means they're not Manfred but they probably know what he knows. Even better. OK. First objective: get advice about how to meet nice girls and ask them out on dates. And if it doesn't work here, then… I go home to Tokyo and ask Murata and Shouri to fix me up._ Despite sketchy attendance at high school, Murata breezed into Wakeda University on the strength of his entrance exams. He and Giesela had an apartment there.

_And Wolfram? _Yuuri's face turned back to stone. His eyes fixed on a greater distance than the confines of his office would allow. His heart stopped pounding. And he found his center of calm, of cold certainty. _Lord Wolfram von Bielenfeld is not my fiancé at present. He will do what he will do. And then he will pay whatever it costs him._

Thus Yuuri walked in to breakfast with his family in perfect icy calm, though he did give a sigh of relief when he saw that Wolfram wasn't there. He often wasn't – he liked to sleep in. "Good morning, everyone!" he said heartily, as usual setting an upbeat tone for the meal.

"Morning," came subdued responses from Greta, Efram, and the vastly pregnant Annissina. Clearly they'd heard the castle gossip already. Toddlers Bertram and Frieda played with their morning porridge elsewhere, and the other men usually just grabbed a Maou bun to eat at their desks. So they were the only three at breakfast.

"Lovely day," asserted Yuuri. "Greta, what plans do you have on this beautiful morning?" As he proceeded with his habitual setting of a positive tone to start the day, gradually everyone relaxed from the walking-on-eggshells atmosphere. Once upon a time, Yuuri would have remembered that it was Wolfram who'd instilled these habits into him. But not this morning.

As the conversation drifted into an eating lull, Annissina stepped in. "So, Greta, is your dress ordered for the ball?"

She knew it wasn't. Just before Yuuri entered, fifteen-year-old Greta was complaining that Wolfram forbade her to attend the ball, except as a kid in pants. She wanted a dress that would turn every head, and was sure that if Cheri were home, she'd have it. This was Annissina's little way of pointing out a window of opportunity.

Greta adored her Chichiue Wolfram. However, she _was_ fifteen. And Yuuri had the spine of a jellyfish. No doubt he'd grovel to Wolfram and make up by lunchtime. So she grabbed the opportunity.

"No, Annissina! And I'm beginning to get so _worried_! Cheri normally buys me dresses, but I'm not even sure she knows about the ball. And time is running out! Yuuri? Would _you_ take me to the dressmaker's instead? It would mean so _much_ to me to have my father go with me to get my first real ball gown!" Big liquid brown eyes batted at him over a fetching smile.

"Ball?" asked Yuuri. Part of his open-mind strategy was paying no attention whatsoever to his desk calendar. He believed in facing each day fresh. He let his staff deal with the details. "What ball?"

Annissina leaned forward with an evil smile. "Oh, didn't you know? The Aristocrat's meeting opens with a ball this Friday evening."

"Ah, why?"

"Aldrich Lord Bielenfeld is brokering a marriage for Dougal Lord Donaghie's heir," explained Annissina. "The Aristocrats meeting is convenient – all the Lords are coming here anyway, and can bring their brightest prospects."

"What does she look like, anyway?" asked Efram.

"She?" asked Yuuri. Wolfram made him memorize all the heirs, but probably considered the genders obvious from the names. They weren't obvious to Yuuri.

"She," confirmed Annissina. "Lady Kieran von Donaghie turned 70 this year. Her Lord father wishes to betroth her and have the lucky man installed at Donagal now, to learn the ropes. Though the marriage can wait 30 years, of course." Mazoku generally disapproved of marriage before age 100, and seemed to take decades-long betrothals in stride – at least at the Aristocrat level. "It doesn't _matter _what she looks like, Efram," she added, with the primness of an idealist. It helped that she had no doubts about her own attractiveness.

Efram looked dejected. "That bad, huh? Chichiue and Tante Cheri do _know_ about this ball, don't they?"

"I've sent letters to Cheri – it's anyone's guess when her mail will catch up to her," Annissina said with a wave of the hand. "Once she knows, I'm sure she'll be here as fast as she can. I believe Kieran's mother was Cheri's first cousin."

Efram's face brightened. "Yeah? Um, what does Lord Donaghie look like? I've never seen him." Oddly, Yuuri had never seen this particular one of the Eleven, either. He only sent proxies.

"Well," said Annissina judiciously, "I'm sure he looked a great deal better before he fell ill. He suffers… skin growths. Among other things. I'm not entirely sure he's going to live to see poor Kieran's wedding. That's part of the rush to get her safely betrothed, and her intended well versed on Donaghie's affairs. Lord Aldrich feels she's old enough now to begin negotiations."

Yuuri, amused by the way Efram blanched, couldn't help asking, "You seem awfully concerned about this, Efram?"

Efram looked like he was picturing '_skin growths'_ on the face. "Lord Aldrich wrote and told me to get a finest new suit fitted for the ball. I was hoping Chichiue would come home in time to… save me." Seeing that Yuuri still didn't get it, he explained. "Spare domain heirs are the top candidates, Yuuri. Bielenfeld borders Donaghie, my liege Lord Aldrich is brokering the marriage, I'm a spare heir… Chichiue or Wolfram would be better, but they're… spoken for."

"Aha! But you're way too young to get betrothed. Aren't you?" Efram was forty-seven – developmentally, Greta had outstripped him a year or so back, though he remained over 30 years ahead of her intellectually. The pair were still thick as thieves.

Efram looked morose. "I guess that depends on Aldrich and Chichiue. But Aldrich could sell water to a fish, and Chichiue's his number one fan. I guess I'd better get fitted for a suit today, too."

Greta shot him a thankful look for forwarding her case, however unwillingly, and elbowed him. "Aw, come on. It'll be fun. With all the best young guys in the marriage market there, I'm sure there will be lots of girls, too. So, please, Yuuri? Can you take me to the dressmaker's today? Pretty, _pretty_ please?"

"I'd offer to take her, Yuuri, but walking downtown…" Annissina waved helplessly at the overdue bowling ball that had supplanted her waspish waist. She added shrewdly, "You'd enjoy the dressmakers'. So many skilled, hard-working, attractive girls work for Madame Ezmelda. The kind of girls your mother would adore."

Yuuri shot her a sour look, but Annissina returned it with an even, unrepentant gaze.

Yuuri nodded in decision. "Very well, Greta. Let's… lunch in town. It'll be like a date! And then we'll head to the dressmaker's."

"Oh, thank you, Yuuri!" squealed Greta, and launched herself to hug him in glee. Behind his back she grinned triumph at Annissina and Efram. Annissina grinned back. Efram returned a wan smile, but looked like he was still stuck on _'skin growths'_.

-oOo-

Wolfram stretched and cracked one eye open around 10:30. The bright light from the open curtains at the window made him wince, so he shut the eye again. A muzzy ten minutes later it occurred to him to try looking in the other direction. So he rolled over and cracked an eye open again. Much better on the dark side of the room.

Then he jolted upright. This wasn't his room. That sudden motion, combined with a couple memories suddenly knocking to get out, sent him running to the commode to upchuck. _Bielenfeld potato vodka…_ Rather than depress the prices too much, in bumper crop years, Bielenfeld's potato plantations turned the excess into vast quantities of cheap vodka. It stored much longer than potatoes.

Agonized forehead resting on cool porcelain, not quite sure it was safe to move away from this spot yet, gray soupy memories began to coalesce of the night before. _The vat. Günter's damned punch vat. _Günter's vat was the social centerpiece of the late night bath scene. A nervous Wolfram had been on his 4th cup of the stuff before he realized its backbone was vodka. Or maybe 6th. Too many to have the sense left to stop, in any case… _What the hell was I doing at Günter's punch vat?_

There were guys. There were quite a lot of _naked_ guys. Scenic… Everyone was congratulating him for… He frowned. There were a lot of naked guys putting their arms around him, petting his back, fondling his knees… That better be all they were…! Or…?

Eyes wide, he crawled forward back to the restroom door and peered back into the bedroom at knee level. No personal stuff. One Bielenfeld blue suit – his. And his boots and jewelry. He peered the other way. No, definitely an uninhabited room. In vast relief, he sank back to put his forehead back on the cool comfort of the rock-hard commode, sprawled naked on the cold stone floor. _Oh, my head…_ Wolfram was an utter lightweight with alcohol. He normally cut himself off after two glasses of wine, and rarely had even that.

_Did I…? No, I would never… would I? But, why was I…? And if I didn't, then who poured me back in here? Surely I couldn't have walked. I must have passed out. I hope I passed out. Then…_ Gunter and Yozak had been among the faces last night. Perhaps they'd carried him back to bed. He inspected himself briefly… if he'd done anything much, there seemed to be no sign of it. Though… he was in the baths at the time…

"What the hell did I do last night? And… **_why?_**"

-oOo-

_P.S. I updated the map of Shin Makoku on my illustrations "homepage" to show the domain of Donaghie._

_Please review?_


	3. Man of the People

**Kyou Kara Maou – Yuuri's Hot Date**

Summary: Wolfram challenges Yuuri to have a date with a girl. Loosely part of my Epilogue story arc.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to _Kyou Kara Maou_ of course.

**Chapter 3 – Man of the People**

Yuuri found his desk calendar pleasantly blank for the day, save for a 10 am briefing by his political advisor – one Wolfram von Bielenfeld – regarding the agenda for the upcoming Aristocrats' meeting. The hour came and went before Wolfram attained consciousness, but Yuuri didn't know that. By 10:30, he concluded that Wolfram had blown him off.

_Fine!_ he said to himself. _For two weeks, during a politically important ball and Aristocrat's meeting, I'm out both fiancé _and_ political advisor, because he's too busy getting laid by _everyone but me_. Damn you to hell, Wolfram!_

It occurred to him to wonder if he was also short one co-parent. But if so, Greta was his, and the other three were Wolfram's, and there was nothing to be done about it. He flinched at the thought of his darling baby Bertram, whom they adopted together at birth, as Wolfram's son instead of his own. But in truth, the child's name was Bertram von Bielenfeld. Efram was Wolfram's brother, not a fosterling at all. And as for their foster daughter Frieda, well, that was up to her father, Adelbert.

Putting those anguished thoughts firmly aside, he set off to find a cup of coffee and Adelbert or Ted von Trondheim, to get advice for his dressmaking expedition. He found all three together, as the older men were also taking a coffee break.

As Yuuri explained the advice he sought, the huge blue-haired general Ted gazed at him blankly. This was not unusual for Ted. But Adelbert also looked perplexed.

"So. How do I go about asking one of the dressmaker's girls to join me for dinner. Oh, at the castle? Or are there nice restaurants in town?"

"Mother's Cauldron is a nice restaurant," allowed Adelbert, grasping the one thread of this he felt confident answering. "You definitely don't want to invite her to the castle. Well, I mean, except… as a dressmaker."

Timidly, Ted added, "Sire, I'm not sure I understand the… operational objective. Why you're going to a dressmaker's, instead of, say, a brothel? There are a number of fine houses serving the town and military. Perhaps…" He trailed off as he registered that Yuuri looked offended.

"OK, no brothels," said Adelbert, bemused.

"No," said Yuuri quellingly. "I want to meet a nice girl and take her out to a fancy restaurant for pleasant conversation. To get to know her."

Ted said faintly, "A fancy restaurant? 'The Diabolical Newt' is a good fancy restaurant… Did you want a nice restaurant? Or a… fancy restaurant?"

Yuuri frowned, not understanding the distinction. "Ah… Well… how do I ask her to go to _any_ restaurant with me?"

Ted didn't ordinarily resort to his native Trondish in front of non-speakers – it was rude. But in this case he made an exception. "_/ Bert, do you understand what he's talking about? Is he trying to get laid, or buy a dress? Is the dress for the fancy restaurant?_ / "

Adelbert shrugged helplessly. "_/ Conrad told me about some strange clothes Yuuri brought back for Wolfram to have sex in – a lace-up leather and chains thing, and a pink see-through thing with a feather snake. Maybe that's why the dressmaker?_ / "

Ted looked a bit alarmed at that. He switched back to the common speech. "Sire, we don't really understand what exactly it is that you're asking the dressmaker to _do_. And why you don't just… ask her to do it. Except, if you ask her the way you're asking us… she may be just as confused as we are. With respect. Sire."

Adelbert suggested, "Yuuri, perhaps you should bring Günter along with you. He is your protocol officer, after all."

Ted nodded vigorously.

"But – Günter's gay," objected Yuuri.

The three men stared at each other in mutual bafflement.

After a pause, Adelbert ventured, "Well… I could take you to a very _open-minded_ brothel. Sire." He looked like he had serious doubts about his willingness to do that.

"Ah… perhaps another time," said Yuuri. "Well, thank you very much for your advice, gentlemen."

"Sorry we couldn't be more help, Sire," said Ted.

_Perhaps… I didn't make myself understood,_ thought Yuuri, as he walked away.

_"/ So… was he asking us because we're_ not_ gay? Surely he wasn't expecting us to join in?_ / " asked Ted.

_"/ Wouldn't that make more sense if we _were_ gay?_ / " replied Adelbert.

-oOo-

Lunch in town with Greta was a delight. Mindful of his dating goal, Yuuri practiced his date manners on his daughter, holding doors, pulling out chairs, ordering for them both, making good eye contact, paying her compliments, listening raptly to all she said. The restaurant's proprietor was rather taken aback when the king said he was having a romantic date with his daughter. But Yuuri had heeded some of Adelbert's advice, and brought Günter along. He smoothed everything over with the management.

When they entered the dress shop, Greta squealed in delight and ran into the shiny, glittering rows of sumptuous fabrics and notions.

An attractive and capable-looking young seamstress looked out into the storefront with a smile. She saw the Maou and Lord von Krist and two guards indoors and five waiting outside. She abruptly unsmiled, eyes wide, and vanished. A few minutes later, a considerably older and more distinguished woman emerged from the back.

She curtseyed deeply and stayed down there, eyes lowered, to address Yuuri. "I am Esmelda, proprietress of this shop, Your Majesty. How may we serve you?"

"Aha!" said Yuuri, embarrassed. "Ah, please rise, Dame Esmelda! I'm not here as Maou, I – This, ah, please meet my daughter, Greta. Greta is here to shop for her very first ball gown." He beamed a proud papa smile at his daugher, who curtseyed to Dame Esmelda.

When Yuuri had bid her rise, Esmelda began to do so. She froze again partway up, eyes widening, as he explained why he was here, glancing at the girl who was _entirely_ too young for a ball gown! _What is he thinking! _Then she sighed and rose the rest of the way. "Of course, Sire. Perhaps we could send up some samples and designs to the castle…?"

Yuuri waved this offer away. "Oh, no need to trouble yourself! Haha! We can do all that here. Can't we?" This last was added in dawning suspicion that Dame Esmelda was not really appreciating his offer.

Greta took his arm and smiled at Esmelda. "Yuuri wanted to meet your dressmakers," she explained. "The Maou likes to get out and meet his people."

Sighing, Esmelda complied with His Majesty's whim, turning out all six of her seamstresses, aged 50 to 250, to explore rolls of cloth and ornate ball gown designs with Greta and the Maou. There being a ball that Friday, and suddenly a new dress to make, they'd be working a lot of late nights. But the Maou could hardly be refused.

"This one!" Greta cried in glee, looking over a design book, assisted by an attractive girl who looked to Yuuri's eyes to be around his own age. "This one even Cheri would envy!"

Yuuri looked at the design. Indeed, the design was risqué even by Cheri's exacting standards of sexy flamboyance. "Aha! Dame Esmelda…? Is this, quite…?"

Esmelda cleared her throat meaningfully at the younger seamstress and removed the book. "Deanna,_ this_ book is for a different clientele. Perhaps Greta would find… _this_ suitable." Greta's face fell. The design Esmelda recommended didn't have nearly the cantilevered high cleavage and peekaboo length of thigh her choice had. Indeed it obscured the legs completely, though a little artful padding might still provide cleavage.

"It's all in the drape of the fabric and how it complements the complexion, Lady Greta," persuaded Esmelda. "Fortuna, please bring the rolls of… antique rose and bisque satin, I should think. And a royal lavender for a sash, of course. You'll see, my lady. Please come this way for a fitting…" And Esmelda guided Greta into the back to swathe and measure and cajole some more and with luck, stick a few pins into the little hoyden – purely by accident, of course.

Eventually Deanna emerged again bearing bolts of lace. "Sire, your lady daughter inquires whether you prefer the white or the bisque. For the gloves."

Deanna was careful not to let her doubts show about this… youth's… honor when it came to his so-called 'daughter', who was clearly more of an age to be his sister or lover. Which she feared was at the dreadful root of him putting her in a ball gown at this unseemly age. The seamstresses at Esmelda's expensive shop had a lot of time for gossip about their clientele – aristrocratic ladies, mistresses, and high-class prosititutes. Not that they saw much of a distinction between the three.

Yuuri had no opinion whatsoever on lace, but Deanna seemed less intimidated around him than the other girls. And he intended to get a date for tonight. So he smiled. "Which would you recommend? Which would make my daughter happiest?"

"Well, she prefers the white, Sire, for contrast with her complexion. But I really recommend the bisque. It will help unify the gloves with the rest of the ensemble." _And costs four times as much._

"Ah! Well, I shall take your advice then. You're so knowledgeable, Mistress Deanna!"

_I've been a seamstress for nearly a century, of course I'm knowledgeable_. But Deanna smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Sire."

"Ah, Deanna," said Yuuri. "I, aha! I was wondering if you would be willing to join me this evening for dinner. Mother's Cauldron and the Diabolical Newt were recommended to me. Would either of those appeal to you?" _I think that was smooth. Yeah, that was smooth enough…_

"The Diabolical Newt?" Deanna repeated, dumbfounded.

"Excellent!" Yuuri said, mistaking this for assent. "The Diabolical Newt it is! Ah, perhaps 6 o'clock?"

Günter stepped forward to murmur,"Sire, 9 o'clock would be more appropriate for a fancy restaurant." He bowed himself backward.

_Wow, that's late for supper. _"Ah, 9 o'clock then. Shall we meet you here?"

Deanna curtseyed assent and withdrew, taking her lace with her. The Maou could hardly be refused.

Eventually, Yuuri departed, pleased to have made his daughter so happy. He hadn't intended to go back to the castle before dinner, but since dinner was to be so late, he escorted the victorious fifteen year old home.

_And I didn't wimp out at all. I asked a girl out on a date, and she accepted! Take that, Wolfram von Boy-Whore!_

Günter stayed behind to settle up and finalize arrangements for the evening and further fittings and final delivery. The tab for a rush job on a top class debutante ball gown, plus a super-rush job on fancy dress, was nothing short of astronomical. Günter was enraptured. His Majesty didn't stage romantic shows of pomp and extravagance nearly often enough.

-oOo-

By noon, enough of Wolfram's brain was functioning for him to remember his meeting with Yuuri at 10. Aside from explaining the intricacies posed by Kieran von Donaghie's marriage prospects, and the key points of contention between the Aristocrats this season, he needed to make sure Yuuri understood why Greta couldn't have a ball gown. The girl was growing up so fast, and growing wily under the influence of Annissina, Cecilie, and Efram. Yuuri needed to be prepared to withstand her cajolery. The other question… of what he'd… done last night… could wait. So he dressed and ventured forth, but found neither Yuuri nor Greta, nor anyone else willing to meet him in the eye. He would have loved to ask Günter or Yozak about last night, but couldn't find them. Bertram and Frieda were happily playing with their nanny when he peeked in, so he left them undisturbed before Bertram could spot him.

He passed Efram's room and overheard him being fitted for a new suit by his tailor. Wolfram knocked politely and entered. Efram, only recently elevated to the aristocracy, was glad enough of his help with the tailor's strange technical questions. Wolfram found the consultation soothing to his hangover and tense nerves.

"Did you want something, vixen?" Efram asked neutrally, pulling his clothes back on after the tailor left.

"I was looking for Yuuri, and… Do you know where he is?"

Efram briefly considered the current balance of payments between himself and Greta, and decided her credit was good. "They went to town for a father-daughter lunch."

Wolfram sighed. "I hope he doesn't do anything foolish about a ball gown." Efram didn't comment, and Wolfram had more pressing questions on his mind. "Hey, pixie… damn this is awkward. I, um, got _really_ drunk last night..."

"You sure did," agreed Efram.

"Did… Yuuri say anything?"

"Nope."

Wolfram reflected sadly that Efram was really too young for him to ask his most burning question. Hopefully, no one would tell the boy such things.

"Finally decided to apologize to Yuuri?" asked Efram.

Wolfram looked up at him blankly. "Apologize? For…?"

"You are _such_ an ass, vixen," spat Efram. "A contest to see who can get laid the most times? Breaking off your engagement?"

_"What?"_ breathed Wolfram in horror.

"What what?" said Efram, then added in alarm, "Vixen, you look kinda green."

Several vomiting bouts later, Wolfram extracted what little the boy knew and departed, with heartfelt anguished apologies and entreaties never to drink. Efram considered the lecture entirely redundant given the state of his bedroom, and set off in disgust to find a maid to mop up. Wolfram retired to his borrowed bedroom to have a good cry and decide how to apologize to Yuuri.

-oOo-

Yuuri returned from lunch around 4 pm, to find Wolfram waiting for him in his office. He frowned and crossed to his desk. "Is there something I can do for you, Lord Wolfram?" he invited quellingly.

Wolfram rose and stood before his desk, head bowed, and gulped. "Yuuri, I'm sorry. I don't know why I said, whatever I said, last night. I don't know why I went to the baths last night. I drank, and drank, and was still passed out drunk, and slept through our meeting this morning. I… apologize. Abjectly. I don't know… what else to say." He swallowed. "I… hope you can forgive me."

"Fine. Forgiven," said Yuuri, curtly. "Will there be anything else, Lord Wolfram?"

Wolfram looked up at Yuuri's Maou-set face and Maou-judgment eyes and quailed. _That was not forgiveness. That was dismissal. That was refusal to discuss the remotest possibility of forgiveness._ Yuuri had never looked at him like that before. Yuuri never looked at _anybody_ like that, except in Maou mode. His look was pure contempt. Wolfram had been judged and found devoid of merit.

"Yuuri," he breathed.

"I would prefer you address me as _'Sire'_ for the duration of our lapsed engagement, Lord Wolfram," Yuuri replied, eyes hard. "By the way, how's your _score_ shaping up? I hear you worked the baths last night. I personally have decided to go for _quality_ rather than _quantity_. You'll be pleased to hear I have a dinner date lined up for this evening."

"You…!" Wolfram gasped, looking at Yuuri in horror. "You…!" He fell to his knees, bowing his head. "Yuuri… Sire… what can I do? What can I say? To make this right?"

Yuuri's heart started to go out to Wolfram. Then he remembered. A torn bundle of rags, almost raped to death from his captivity in Mizrat. Holding him, confessing his love to him, putting him back together, putting all others aside for the rest of his life to be with Wolfram, deciding to raise children hand in hand, giving up his family and his homeworld to stay with him. _This is not my Wolfram. I do not know this man who would toss me aside for two weeks on a whim and head for the baths to see how many times he could get laid. _

"I was going to apologize to you," said Yuuri coldly. "Not that I'd done anything to apologize for. But I'd grovel anyway to have you back, to have everything well between us again. I hated it and was sure you'd despise me for it, but I would have done it anyway. Until I heard you'd gone to the _baths_ last night. So. I asked you a question, Lord Wolfram. _How many men did you score?_"

"I – don't know," said Wolfram helplessly, tears flowing down his face. "Yuuri – Sire – what can I do? How can I put this right? Please, I don't want our engagement broken off. I don't want this stupid contest. I don't want anyone else but you."

"For five years I've stood by you. I've suffered your emotional attacks and fits of jealousy. _This_ time you're going to learn your lesson, Lord Wolfram. Two weeks. So be it. You doubt my fidelity because I've never kissed a girl? I admit the thought had crossed my mind. You made this bed. Now you lie in it. And _if_ we should get together again after the two weeks is up, you learn your lesson, and never, _ever _do this to me again."

Wolfram sobbed, "You really _did_ want to find out what a girl was like."

"Yes, I guess I did. But I wouldn't have. For your sake. Aren't you happy you found out."

"No. I've never been more unhappy in my life," said Wolfram. "I don't know you!" He fled.

Having spent his rare wrath, Yuuri's nerves jittered and clanged. _I was too rough. He's hurt. He might hurt himself… _After three minutes, he couldn't take it any more and headed to find Wolfram, stopped, and sought Conrad instead. He was at his desk.

"Conrad," he said, closing the office door behind him gently, but not meeting Conrad's eye. "I need to to ask you a favor. Wolfram is hurting, hurting really badly. Because of what I said to him. He needs you. Could you please take care of him for me?"

Conrad searched his face in alarm. "Are you two going to stop this wager and restore your engagement?"

Yuuri shook his head. "Not… yet. Please, take good care of him for me."

-oOo-

Conrad rushed to find Wolfram, as terrified as Yuuri that Wolfram would harm himself. Long anguished minutes were wasted searching, until Efram led him to the room Wolfram had claimed. Efram was glued, back to the door, having no idea how to help his big brother, but unwilling to leave, as Conrad took the shattered, sobbing youth in his arms.

"You can't be here now, Efram," said Conrad softly. "Please help by sending a Kohi to find your father and our mother. I'll take of Wolfram, I promise." Efram nodded and escaped to do that.

After a long time, even with this great a sorrow, Wolfram sobbed himself out and they talked. "Conrad, I don't even know if I –" He gulped anguish.

"You don't know if you what?"

Sobbing coming back on, Wolfram buried his face in Conrad's jacket and said, "I don't even know if I did have sex with somebody else!"

"Oh, sweet one. I wish you'd found me earlier," Conrad crooned to him, stroking his back, smoothing the unruly sodden bangs off his forehead. "Yozak carried you back to your room last night. No one touched you. Yozak and Günter wouldn't have let them. You were too drunk for them to let you make a decision like that. They know what it would cost you. We love you, Wolfram. We watch out for you."

"Really?" he looked up hopefully. "You're _sure?_"

"_Absolutely_ sure. Your virtue is intact."

"But my relationship with Yuuri is still over! My life is –"

"Shh, sweet one. Listen to me. Are you listening? _Yuuri_ is the one who sent me here. _Yuuri_ made me promise to take good care of you, to make sure you were safe. It's not over. He cares. He still loves you. He's just very, very angry. But you can work this out. I'm sure of it. Don't give up, Wolfram. If you love him, don't ever give up."

"He'll never forgive me!"

"He will. Yuuri can forgive anyone. This is _Yuuri_ we're talking about."

Wolfram shook his head. "No. No, I didn't know that man! He wasn't Yuuri!"

"He was. Maou Yuuri is always inside our friend Yuuri, Wolfram. The sun comes out again. He smiles again. The cruel Maou who passes judgment, the kind man who loves everybody. They're both Yuuri. Trust him, Wolfram. Two weeks, maybe less. You can trust him, Wolfram. You didn't give your heart to the wrong man. Trust him."

Conrad didn't leave him that night. Even in the nursery, when Wolfram felt up to playing with Bertram and Frieda a little while, Conrad stood vigil. He'd trust Yuuri, and safeguard his baby brother, until Wolfram was safe with Yuuri again.

-oOo-

_Please review?_


	4. Fancy

**Kyou Kara Maou – Yuuri's Hot Date**

Summary: Wolfram challenges Yuuri to have a date with a girl. Loosely part of my Epilogue story arc.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to _Kyou Kara Maou_ of course.

Author's Note: _Yikes!_ Reviewers were so worried about Wolfie, I put the next phase of his story into that last chapter, only to make it worse! _I'm sorry!_ There will be a happy ending. _Promise!_

**Chapter 4 – Fancy**

Yuuri was subdued, walking down to town for his big date with the seamstress Deanna that night. Günter and the guards left him alone with his thoughts. Misgivings plagued him about leaving Wolfram to face the consequences of his actions, even in Conrad's care.

_It's just a habit, _he told himself. _I'm in the habit of dropping everything and pandering to the spoiled little boy princess' every whim._ That managed to revive his righteousness only momentarily. _That isn't true. He'd drop everything for me as well. He would go to the ends of the earth for me, fight for me, die for me, do whatever I asked. And in all fairness, neither of us is much of a… panderer. We're just there for each other… as best friends… _

_My fiancé is not_ just _my best friend. No one forced him to go to the baths last night! He chose to do that thing! And this is _not_ the right way to prepare for a pleasant date with a nice girl!_

Though he tried valiantly to train his thoughts on Deanna and a nice date, these thoughts spun in his head, on an express hamster wheel to nowhere. By the time they reached Dame Esmelda's dress shop, he wasn't so much excited about the date, as relieved to have some distraction – any distraction! – to get him out of himself.

His steps slowed as he registered that Dame Esmelda's entire staff stood waiting outside the shop in the cold night street, which was otherwise deserted at this hour. His misgivings intensified as he realized there were a couple extras standing there. Several were muffled in large cloaks. _What are the feathery things they're holding?_

Günter strode ahead of Yuuri's faltering steps and bowed to everyone, holding brief consultations. As Yuuri pulled up beside him, he bowed and held out an arm to indicate the extras. Who, like Esmelda and Deanna herself, bore… strange items. "Your Majesty, please let me introduce Miss Deanna's father, master blacksmith Mister Artur, her mother, master seamstress Dame Adrianna, and her elder brother, journeyman blacksmith Mister Andre. And of course you know Dame Esmelda and Miss Deanna."

Günter beamed while they all exchanged rather subdued _Good evenings_, then pressed on. "Dame Esmelda, do you have…?"

"Please, this way," bid Esmelda, leading them into the back of the shop. "You can change here." Yuuri noticed that all the other seamstresses – save Deanna – also flowed into the back of the shop, to the other room.

"_Change?"_ inquired Yuuri urgently, though quietly, of his protocol officer.

"Of course, Your Majesty," said Günter. "We can hardly go to a fancy restaurant like this."

"Aha, Günter, what exactly is the distinction between a 'nice' restaurant and a 'fancy'…" Yuuri's voice died as Dame Esmelda's arm swooped to indicate costumes awaiting them. _What the…_ Relative sizes and other clues resolved themselves to Yuuri's horrified eyes.

Günter clapped his hands in delight. "Ah! Dame Esmelda, they're exquisite! And on such short notice! I salute you, Madam!" And he bowed.

Yuuri, mouth still hanging open, poked his finger into a very large, very shiny red satin codpiece. Morgif, which for some reason Günter insisted he wear this evening _'to complete the ensemble'_, started to sing.

"Would His Majesty prefer an external…?" Esmelda inquired faintly.

Yuuri pictured himself walking down the street with a giant dildo bouncing up and down at his every step, "Shinou, no!" he breathed. "Aha! Ah, this will do nicely. Dame Esmelda. Ah, thank you." And he bowed to her curtseying her way out of the room to leave the two men to change.

_I could call this whole thing off,_ Yuuri thought. _Take her to another… No, I can't take her to another restaurant. Every normal restaurant is closed by now. Sweet Shinou! I made these people spend all afternoon making … There's nothing for it but to wear them and…_

Hand over his mouth, Yuuri began to laugh. He laughed until tears came.

Günter beamed at him in return, delighted. "Oh, Your Majesty! I'm so glad you approve of the costumes!" Günter had already disrobed and put on his dress, a black and red sequined thing complete with ample padded bust and backside. He was sitting to draw on black fishnet stockings to attach to naughty red satin garters.

Yuuri wiped his eyes and applied himself to donning his own costume, which of course was a grotesquely exaggerated Demon King. The red satin bloomers featured padded backside and about four thick bootsocks attached inside, as a rather explicit form of codpiece. It came complete with pitchfork tail and a chain belt with life size handcuffs dangling off it, like charms on a charm bracelet. He needed Günter's help to tie on the padded red satin top, which mimicked six-pack abs, chest, shoulders, and arms to rival Adelbert's, or even giant Ted's. With hairy chest. There was no helmet, thankfully, but merely a domino-style mask that tied across the top half of his face with strings, of a large-nosed red demon face with feather horns, with further gilded feathers forming a crown on top.

Morgif sang. Günter hummed along at the mirror, putting on blood red lipstick before attaching fangs. Apparently he was some kind of lady vampire. He sat back to admire the effect, holding the domino mask in place for the moment – apparently they wouldn't walk down the street with those on – and sighed in contentment at the look. "Some red lipstick, Sire?" he offered.

Yuuri shook his head and laughed again. "Aw, what the hell. Sure, if you think it would go well."

"Oh, yes! And perhaps a little rouge. Your Majesty's skin tone is so gloriously robust!"

On the way out, muffled in cloaks, Yuuri glanced in at the workroom. What looked to be the remnants of a take-out supper and strong tea sat on a table. He noted sadly that two of the five women were hard at work stitching tiny gathers into Greta's rose and bisque and lavender satin. The other three were busy at other ballgowns the Maou's whims had put behind schedule.

-oOo-

Though their costumes were of substantially higher quality than most, the party fit in well at the Diabolical Newt, which of course Günter had alerted this afternoon of His Majesty Yuuri's imminent visit. They were escorted to a particularly creepy gallery festooned in black awfuls and skulls, overlooking the main dance floor of the nightclub, which pulsated hellfire and brimstone. The gallery provided an excellent view of their fellow diners' costumes.

Once they got to the restaurant and the cloaks came off, he found Deanna herself to be fetchingly arrayed as a mermaid, with opalescent scales on transparent gauzy green across arms and upper chest, above a heavier scaly material, exaggerated at the hips, slit high for freedom of movement, with added green and gold lamé flounces at the bottom, hinting a tail. Her domino dripped a few crepe streamers of seaweed. Her family and Esmelda, who had _all _accompanied them, sported only ornate dominoes for costumes. They sat with Günter at the only other table in the royally reserved gallery. The guards stood, sporting simple red masks with red feather horns, to indicate they were attached to Yuuri.

Somehow, Yuuri noted wryly, he'd accidentally chosen a fairly interesting place to take a seamstress on a date. Conversation was painfully stilted at first, as Yuuri attempted what he came to realize were taken for overly personal questions. But when allowed, Deanna cast a keen professional eye on all the other costumes. Once he let the conversation drift where it may, he learned a great deal about costuming. Of course, this was a topic that had no relevance whatsoever to his life, but it was interesting to catch glimpses of his subjects' lives when he could.

The food was thematic, of course. The deviled eggs were dressed as eyeballs, and large poultry limbs dripped tomato sauce blood. Once they'd had enough of that, they took a couple obligatory turns on the dance floor, with their entire retinue. The other patrons fled the dance floor when Yuuri entered, but Günter led the family to invite other guests to dance, so Yuuri wouldn't be dancing with Deanna alone. He noticed vampiress Günter invited the same elegant gentleman salamander to dance each time.

Around 11:30, Günter quietly suggested that it was time to depart. In the street, Deanna curtseyed, thanked Yuuri for a remarkable evening, and begged his leave. Apparently her family lived in the opposite direction, but she requested the guards accompany Esmelda back to her home above the shop, as it was very late indeed for a woman to be out wandering the streets alone. Günter dispatched two guards on this errand, and Yuuri's party headed home.

Yuuri hadn't suggested a second date. Although it turned out to be a fun evening, it was obvious that neither he nor Deanna had any wish for a repeat. He'd learned Deanna was actually a journeyman seamstress, age 140 or so. She and Esmelda's eldest daughter were the same age, so they'd traded shops for a few years. They were undecided as to whether to rejoin their own mothers' shops or go into business together when they became masters themselves. Her life and Yuuri's had absolutely nothing in common. And Yuuri was fine with that.

He'd love to take Wolfram and the older kids to the Diabolical Newt sometime, though.

"Günter," he asked thoughtfully, as they climbed the castle hill, "why was Deanna's family along tonight? And Esmelda? Just… chaperoning?" The other man was swishing a bit as he walked. Yuuri suspected he was having fun rubbing his fishnet stockings together. He himself found walking with the multi-sock codpiece strangely erotic, but not pressingly so.

Günter interrupted his happy humming – Morgif continued without him – to answer. "Well, Sire, if you wished Miss Deanna to become your mistress, it would be convenient to have all the parties to the transaction present, but… I suspect they were making a strong statement that Deanna wasn't open to a change of career." He resumed his humming in unconcern.

Yuuri stopped dead in his tracks for a moment.

"Hmm?" Günter inquired.

Yuuri resumed climbing the hill. Eventually, he said quietly, "It's not possible for me, as a king, to have a normal date with a normal girl, is it, Günter. If I got… physical… with, say, one of the castle maids, for example… what would happen?"

Günter shrugged in unconcern. "You may do whatever you wish, Sire. You are the Maou."

"I meant, what would happen to _her?_"

Günter waved a hand. "You needn't concern yourself with such things, Sire. Wolfram _ought_ to handle them but… He finds such things… difficult, so… I would take of them." He resumed his humming with blood-red fang-festooned lips.

Yuuri walked some time in silence, aghast, and trying to formulate his next question. "To meet a girl on her own terms, without dishonoring her in any way… I would have to date only aristocrats. Is that right? Or… hire a… professional."

_No wonder Adelbert and Ted didn't understand what on earth I was talking about. If I want a serious relationship, that's a negotiation with a fellow aristocrat. If I want to get laid, I should honestly hire a woman who is in that business. Asking any other woman, who might feel compelled to comply because I'm the king, would be despiccable._

"Well, yes, that's generally considered the honorable path. Fortunately, there _is_ a ball on Friday. Many girls of our own class will be there. You'll be expected to dance with Lady Kieran von Donaghie, of course. And Greta. But you can dance with whomever else you wish. The Maou can hardly be refused."

"Are there… ramifications? To having a dance with an aristocrat?"

"A dance is but a dance, Your Majesty. Ah! Oh, I see! You fear your dinner with the seamstress this evening has damaged her reputation! Your Majesty is so kind and thoughtful! Fear not! No harm came to her of it. She simply has the memory of your magnificent company to treasure for the rest of her life!"

Yuuri smiled at his automatic image of Wolfram adding acid commentary to this statement. His smile faded as he recalled the strife between them, but it came back. Suddenly his uphill climb seemed to change to all downhill.

_A dance at the ball. And that's enough. I could go back to Tokyo, date a girl on the terms I grew up with, but there's no point. I chose this world, and I stand by my choice. I chose Wolfram, and I stand by my choice. Difficult as it can be to stand by Wolfram at times…_ His face hardened at the thought of Wolfram willingly falling into another man's arms at the baths, kissing him, letting another man… _Well, that's non-negotiable. He cannot do that ever again. But… I think I can get past it now._

_All in all, a very successful evening, if not in any way that I intended it,_ he chuckled to himself. _I did still have that niggling doubt that I was missing something, by choosing Wolfram. I don't doubt that anymore. And the Diabolical Newt was kinda fun. Maybe we should have a fancy dress ball at the castle sometime. Now I've got this classy red suit with codpiece and all._

His bedroom still loomed large and cold and empty in the wee hours of the morning when he returned. He stashed his demon king costume, put on his pajamas, and washed off his makeup. Still a little too keyed up to sleep, he wandered into the nursery, and toyed with Frieda and Bertram's gorgeous red-blond and green-blond curls without waking them.

_Wimpue's home, little ones._ He watched their chubby sweet faces in sleep for a long time before he felt sleepy and content enough to go back to face his own empty bed.

-oOo-

_Kieran._ Wolfram woke with that clear thought in the morning. _That's why. That's why I freaked out on Yuuri and started this whole mess. Kieran._ He closed his eyes in pain. _If I'd just taken Efram up on his offer of a good cry and a backrub, instead of idiotically running off to the baths… I would have seen that the first night, and saved Yuuri and me a world of anguish…_

He didn't stir too much in bed. Conrad lay sleeping beside him. His brother's completely relaxed slumber was misleading – if Wolfram made a move, Conrad would be awake and alert instantly. One could ask for no more potent watchdog. Wolfram smiled sadly. He always felt safest sleeping beside a man in bed. Not just any man, of course. One who loved him, one he could trust.

When he was little, he often climbed into bed with Conrad or Gwendal when he was frightened. His mother's bedroom scared him. There were so many different men. It made him anxious. But going to visit his father was best of all. Aldrich came to fetch him, because the trip was too hard for Manfred, physically and emotionally. He and Cecilie would fight, Wolfram would grow hysterical torn between them, Manfred would be in pain from the journey and his temper flare too easily, Conrad and Gwendal would get furious and over-protective. So instead, Aldrich came and took him to his father's cottage. Nobody fought with Aldrich.

The first night was always the best. Aldrich and Chichiue were so glad to see each other, and Chichiue was so glad to see Wolfram. And he'd cuddle into bed between the two lovers, and they'd tell him stories. Then he'd fall asleep listening to them talk softly, snuggled safe in between. They smelled so nice when they were warm and happy together, a spring green kind of smell. Aldrich said it was because his grandmother wasn't a demon. She was a special tree person who could talk to dragons. Wolfram wanted to talk to dragons, too. Chichiue and Aldrich were always so kind and loving and gentle with each other. It was so wildly different from the flashy dangerous games his mother played with her parade of lovers. He knew his father had other lovers he played those games with. But not when he had Wolfram visit, and Aldrich came to stay.

He was only twenty – about the equivalent of a human 6 year old - when the second baby basket appeared on Chichiue's dining room wall. Aldrich quietly asked Wolfram not to make a fuss about it, because it would make Chichiue very sad. Unlike the first, Wolfram's baby basket, made by a novice Manfred guiding Conrad's child hands, then crushed by hard wear carrying a baby around, his sister's was perfect. Chichiue had taken meticulous care weaving it, spent a long thoughtful time at it. Then he hung it directly on the wall, unused.

Chichiue said only that he was sorry he hadn't let Wolfram help. But his little sister had gone far away, and Wolfram would never meet her. So Wolfram had no promises to weave into her basket. _He lied. For good reason._

He overheard her name that night, eavesdropping on Chichiue and Aldrich – Kieran. Wolfram never told anyone, not even Chichiue, that he knew his sister's name. And, obviously, he knew how old she was.

That was all he needed. Kieran's mother was Cecilie's elder first cousin, and Donaghie and Spitzweg shared a border. Lady von Donaghie died when Kieran was about twenty-five. He hadn't seen her since. But he met Kieran at a couple von Spitzweg family events before then.

Everyone laughed at how much they looked alike, and remarked how astonishingly well the _'Emeraude von Bielenfeld look'_ inherited, generation after generation. And it was true. Chichiue had it, though it was actually the Friedrich von Bielenfeld look in his case – Emeraude's one full brother. Emeraude and Friedrich were the two children of the mysterious tree lady who spoke to dragons. Emeraude was grandmother to Lady von Donaghie and Cecilie. But Friedrich was Chichiue's great-grandfather, and Chichiue had also inherited the look perfectly.

_If one believes Chichiue is Friedrich's great-grandson and nephew, not his illegitimate son. I'm not sure I believe that myself. It certainly isn't how Kieran looks like me, after all._

_Do you love me for me, Yuuri? Or for my looks? And if for my looks, would you rather they were on a girl? Do you love my looks in spite of the fact I'm a man? If so, your dreams are answered. For there is a female Wolfram, near enough. And although her… father… would prefer she marry a man to rule Donaghie… if Kieran set her heart on the Maou instead, fond old von Donaghie would never refuse her. His daughter means the world to him._

_That's what I was thinking. Before I blew a fuse at Yuuri._

_But what do I do now?_

It was Thursday. Today Aldrich would come, a day early to prepare for tomorrow night's ball, Kieran's debut into aristocratic society, the opening of her auction on the aristocratic marriage market. Aldrich who smelled spring green when he was happy long ago… Wolfram assumed he still did. Aldrich his liege lord, Aldrich the marriage broker…

_Aldrich the marriage counselor. _It was a hobby of Aldrich's, helping aristocratic couples iron out their marital woes. Many made snide jokes about it. But they stopped joking when their own marriages hit the rocks. Then they fled to Aldrich to help them make the agony stop. He rarely brokered marriages – Kieran's betrothal, with an entire domain hanging in the balance, was an extraordinary situation, and Lord Donaghie was too infirm to do the job justice. But Aldrich often brokered miracles that saved people's marriages from falling into pits of misery and despair. Wolfram had seen it time and again.

_Aldrich can help me figure out what to do. If he can spare time from… Kieran._

Wolfram cautiously snuggled closer to Conrad. His big brother stiffened just a moment, but Wolfram had calculated well, how to keep him from rousing. _Neither of us smell happy green today. But he does make me feel safer._

-oOo-

_Please review?_


	5. The Marriage Counselor and the Greta Cap

**Kyou Kara Maou – Yuuri's Hot Date**

Summary: Wolfram challenges Yuuri to have a date with a girl. Loosely part of my Epilogue story arc.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to _Kyou Kara Maou_ of course.

**Chapter 5 – The Marriage Counselor and the Greta Caper  
**

Aldrich must have dragged a riverboat crew out before dawn, because the first Bielenfeld contingent arrived shortly after breakfast. Wolfram had elected to breakfast with the toddlers in order to avoid Yuuri until he had a chance to talk to Aldrich. He joined them as Aldrich and his crop of youthful hopefuls for Kieran's hand were setting up a table in the courtyard below the receiving gallery. This they draped in blue and gold, and piled with thick but beautifully bound blue and gold agendas and supporting documents to hand out to the ruling Lords for the Aristocrat's Summit, plus a great deal of other ornately presented paperwork related to the ball.

Wolfram had confided his plan to Conrad, hoping thus to escape suicide watch. Conrad nodded relieved approval of the plan, and still didn't let Wolfram out of his sight.

Busy Aldrich smiled and greeted them with a nod. "Lord Weller, Lord Wolfram. Sylvain, two meeting packets, if you would." Aldrich resumed briefing his other squires.

A tall blue-eyed blond – around 80 percent of Bielenfeld's population consisted of blue-eyed blonds – selected two of the elegant Lord's packets and presented them to Conrad and Wolfram with a bow.

Wolfram introduced. "Conrad, please let me present Sylvain von Tarkenburg. I believe Sylvain is heir to the heir of the Tarkenburg plantation, do I have that right, Sylvain? Conrad, Tarkenburg is the most prominent plantation, after the von Bielenfelds'." Actually, Tarkenburg was only smaller than all seven von Bielenfeld family plantations taken en masse. Sylvain smiled a _close enough_. "Sylvain, my half-brother, Conrad Lord Weller."

Sylvain affably bent to his task of making a good impression on Lord Weller, via explaining the contents of the Lord's bound agenda. Wolfram's copy was simply a courtesy to the Maou's political advisor – his domain voting rights lay in his liege Lord Aldrich. His hopes of snagging him were dashed, though, as Efram appeared. Aldrich drew him away for some private instructions.

So instead Wolfram contemplated Sylvain and the other youths. Clearly Wolfram and Efram outranked all of them. But perhaps clear only to Wolfram and Aldrich, they weren't really in the running for Kieran's hand. Judging from the simple relief on Efram's face, Aldrich was telling him he was too young but had to act his part. _Good. _

So Bielenfeld's offerings really amounted to Sylvain and two other high-ranked plantation nobles, Toby von Guire and Kyle von Derringer. Wolfram knew all three – they ranged in age from 80 to 110. Guire and Derringer were close to Donaghie, and Toby and Kyle closer to Kieran in age. But Wolfram's choice would be the accomplished and socially gifted Sylvain. If von Donaghie passed away tomorrow, capable Sylvain could pick up the reins immediately. The younger ones… might land the domain's succession back into question. But Kieran might want someone younger. Indeed, from the vantage point of age 70, 110 might seem awfully old. And of course, the other domains would also be putting forward candidates, most of higher birth.

As Aldrich and Efram wafted back to the table, Conrad politely excused himself from Sylvain for a moment, and caught Aldrich before Wolfram could. Aldrich sobered and his eyes fixed on Wolfram, as Conrad whispered. Conrad returned to Sylvain's guidance on social resumés – Wolfram feared his own was among the samples – and Aldrich drew Wolfram aside.

"Young cousin," Aldrich said, taking Wolfram's elbow with his one good hand, "I understand we need to talk. I'm very busy right now, but Lord Weller also has pressing business. So, until I can spare time to chat, I need you to stay here and help our squires explain the agenda. Agreed?"

"Yes, my liege," replied Wolfram, irked. But Aldrich really did have his hands full. Gwendal – the chancellor could hardly ignore such a ruckus on his doorstep forever – was joining the throng, as well as Adelbert and Ted. _Yuuri and Günter will be out shortly_, Wolfram thought in dismay. _Oh, well, at least I have a flair for social resumés, and I do need to read the final agenda. And… renew my acquaintance with these men who would wed my sister._ That thought was uncomfortable, especially since he knew the squires better than the girl. _What's she like now, I wonder?_

When Yuuri appeared, Aldrich handled the Maou personally. They visited and laughed and Aldrich steered Yuuri back indoors.

Eventually the table traffic reached a lull, Gwendal quit quibbliing with Aldrich over a point on the agenda, and Aldrich beckoned Wolfram to join him on the gallery. Aldrich quietly summarized what Conrad had told him, and Wolfram confirmed.

"I really don't know what to do now, Aldrich," he confided. "I apologized abjectly, I got on my knees and _begged_, and…"

"And you told him that you did _not _actually have sex with another man?" Aldrich clarified.

Wolfram gulped, and whispered, "He asked… no, he _demanded_, but… I said I didn't know, how many. Because… I _didn't_ know, then…"

"OK, Wolfram, first of all, you need to give him that information. Note I'm not talking about begging. Apologize, yes, but don't ask him for anything. This is information he demanded of you, and you owed him an answer, but failed to give it to him. And now you correct that error. You can explain, without excuses. But try to keep it as neutral as possible. Write that letter here and now, and we'll talk some more."

When Wolfram returned with his first draft, Aldrich read and pocketed it, turning his back to the courtyard so no one could read his face. "Wolfram… some of this will have to wait, but… You need to apologize with dignity. A good apology is specific – stick to the point. Omit the self flagellation, comparisons to others, the past, the future... The fact that you've since realized why you did, what you did, is promising. Mention that, but don't digress. For this letter, don't try to _solve_ anything. You are conveying information which you owe him. So, keep it simple, write with dignity, and try again."

Aldrich stiffened as he saw a new contingent enter the courtyard. "And -" he added abruptly, with a hand on Wolfram's shoulder. "Stay here, and stay out of_ this._ I need to deal with it. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Raven, on behalf of Stoeffel von Spitzweg, had arrived with his delegation for the ball and meeting, a day early. He begged off from Aldrich's squires, saying several of his company weren't feeling well, and promised he'd return soon. Aldrich joined the Spitzweg group as they headed into the castle.

-oOo-

"Greta, may I have a private word with you?" asked Aldrich. He led Greta into the middle of the grand ballroom, away from any prying ears. "I have a special favor to ask."

Greta nodded, all ears. "What's the favor?"

"Well, you know Kieran von Donaghie is coming for her debutante ball, and I'm brokering a marriage for her?" Greta nodded. "She could very much use a friend in the castle. I was wondering if you could be a companion to her while she's here? I think the two of you would hit it off, and… Well, it's a little sensitive. She's not to show herself until the ball – you'll see why when you meet her. If you can keep a secret?"

Greta grinned. "I _excel_ at keeping secrets. Sure, I'd be happy to keep her company and show her around on the sly. When's she coming?"

"She's already here. Come with me?"

Aldrich led her to a guest room temporarily labelled _'Tomas Vespasian'_ and knocked softly. They entered. Greta gasped and put a hand over her mouth. Then she smirked, remembering Efram's worry about _'skin growths'_. For Kieran von Donaghie was quite simply the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen, despite being dressed as a boy, in the Spitzweg colors of the minor noble house of Vespasian. Then Greta sobered a little, eyes narrowing. _She looks exactly like Wolfram, turned into a girl!_

"I've brought you an accomplice, Kieran," said Aldrich. "May I present Greta Shibuya, the Maou's adopted daughter."

Kieran nearly curtseyed, laughed at herself, and bowed. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Greta. Especially if you can spring me from house arrest and show me around the castle." She held up a hand as Aldrich started to protest. "My keeper says I need a better disguise to be allowed out of my cage," she confided to Greta. "Got anything? Maybe some colored contact lenses?"

"Of course! Yuuri – um, the Maou – wears them to sneak out among the people. I'll go get them. Then we can spy on the boys as they come into the courtyard!"

"Perfect!" grinned Kieran – er, Tomas.

Out in the hall, Aldrich detained Greta a moment longer before she could bound off to rifle though Yuuri's bedroom. "Greta… I know it's a lot to ask, that you keep secrets from your family. And if you feel there's real need, of course you should follow your conscience, but… Your family includes some of the most important people Kieran is to be presented to tomorrow night. So… if your conscience allows…?"

"No problem," Greta promised. "This is Kieran's secret, and I'll keep it!"

In no time at all, Kieran – now the brown-eyed, brown-haired, cap-covered Tomas – and Greta were settled on the 2nd floor side gallery above the courtyard, used only by servants and children, where they could see and hear almost everything. Greta brought along a notebook, so they could score the boys. But of course the first thing they did was sketch their dresses for the ball.

The girls had trouble muffling their giggles as Greta described the codpiece of the costume she found in Yuuri's closet, and what she'd heard from the guards of his goofy date last night. Kieran was dismayed to hear about the current dire misunderstanding between the Maou and Wolfram, which of course Greta knew the whole truth of from Efram, though she didn't know how to fix it.

Kieran frowned thoughtfully, chin on fist, at Wolfram, now talking on the first floor gallery with Aldrich. "So do you think now the Maou and Wolfram are available for marriage to someone else?" she asked.

Greta replied, "_No way!_ Nothing can break those two up. At least… I don't think so." She looked at Wolfram sadly. "They've been through so much together…"

"Hm," said Kieran thoughtfully.

"Oooh, look, the Spitzweg boys are coming back out. Which one of them do you like best?"

-oOo-

After he returned, Aldrich approved Wolfram's second draft, and gave it to Efram to deliver to Yuuri, hand to hand and in private only.

"How are you feeling now?" Aldrich asked.

Wolfram considered. He was surprised to find that though writing the first letter made him feel worse, the second draft took a weight off his shoulders. He nodded slowly. "Better. A lot better. I'm not sure I understand, but…"

"Well, I don't know how many minutes of peace we'll get here, but, we'll try. Wolfram, you aren't in control of what Yuuri or anyone else does. You know that, of course, but hold tight to it in a situation like this. You're only in charge of your side. You're cleaning up your side of the street. Exactly what you did wrong, without exaggeration or minimization, without assigning blame or taking more blame than you're due. Just pinning down exactly what _'it'_ is, and isn't, goes a long way toward making it more manageable. See it whole."

"Chichiue's always saying that…" Wolfram murmured.

Aldrich nodded. "I bet he said a whole _lot_ of that after you got back from Mizrat. The principle's the same. Problems can suck, but when you have them, you deal with them. It's a whole different ballgame when the problems have _you_. So, now you feel better because you have a problem, instead of _it_ having _you_.

"But now let's consider Yuuri. People experience jealousy differently. My guess is, he felt utterly betrayed by your actions. But those actions never happened – you had to tell him that! Unfortunately, your words and intention _did_ happen. You and me, we're firebugs – we flash anger and cool off in a moment. But Wolfram, people who are slow to anger, can be slow to get over it, too. They may have a whole laundry list they're angry about. He might read your note and come running to kiss and make up. But I doubt it. He may need time to get over being angry."

Wolfram nodded unhappily. "And in the meantime… what can I do?"

"Love him," said Aldrich. "I'm not talking about sex. I'm talking about thinking of him first. This is a paradox – I'm telling you two things here. One, you can only take care of your side of the street. Two, do that by loving and respecting him. Love is a verb. If he needs space, give him space. If he wants to date another girl, try your best to be a friend while he does that, or get out of his way. He definitely needs a political advisor, so do your job. Do you see the distinction? Keep your demands, your needs, your anxiety over your future, to yourself for the moment. Demand, is a verb. Love, is a verb. Choose to give and not worry about what you'll get in return. Can you do that?"

"I… Aldrich, last night he went out on a date with a girl!" Wolfram fought himself not to crumple here on the gallery.

Aldrich looked at him in mild sternness. "None of your business. Unless, of course, you'd care to help him to not make a fool of himself."

Wolfram blinked. "What?"

"Your side of the street is to love him. That would include helping him understand how to go about having a date with a girl, if that's what he feels he must do. If you can't love him enough to do that, then stay out of his way. For now. Can you do that?"

"I… don't know," admitted Wolfram. "If he…" He imagined Yuuri actually making it all the way with Kieran and his face threatened to crumple again. He briskly turned his back to the courtyard to get a grip.

Aldrich leaned on the gallery rail, gazing out. "Without exaggerating, or minimizing, what do you _realistically _think that Yuuri would do? How would that, _realistically,_ affect his feelings for you? Pretty vixen, I think a problem has you instead of you having a problem again… Try to step back. Imagine not-Yuuri, a friend. You had a lot of green recruits. If one of them came to you in Yuuri's shoes, no skin off your nose either way, would you condemn him for settling a little question of cold feet? How far could that trooper go without you condemning him?"

Wolfram snorted, and allowed, "Pretty far. Actually I had someone like that…" _My troop medic Paol, when he was about to propose marriage to Sanguria. _"It was the other way – he thought he was in love with a woman, but he'd always been attracted to men, too…"

"How'd you handle it?"

"I took him to the late night baths, actually," said Wolfram, remembering. "We looked, we talked. All he had to do was wade across the pool. But he didn't. And there were some fine specimens on offer, too." He and Aldrich both chuckled. Aldrich had been a frequent devotee of the baths in his youth, but that was long ago for this Mazoku in his prime. "The next day he proposed to the girl. Came by and thanked me after, on cloud 9."

"Think you can love Yuuri as well as you did that trooper?"

Wolfram sighed. "I don't know."

"Actually, I was playing coy, before," admitted Aldrich. "I went ahead and asked Günter von Krist what happened on Yuuri's date last night. _'Cultural howler'_ sums it up nicely, though Günter waxed poetic singing His Majesty's praises. Quite a character, your von Krist. Clueless."

Wolfram laughed. "He is that. So Yuuri…"

"Picture this – with only Günter von Dreamworld as a guide to local etiquette, who doesn't tell him there's a thing wrong with his plan, he invites a dressmaker to a fancy restaurant, because he thought 'fancy' meant 'elegant'. So he's dragging this grown woman, _and_ her whole mortally offended proud master craftsman family, _and_ her boss, all forced to dress up like complete clowns at His Majesty's inexplicable whim, to the Diabolical Newt –"

Wolfram bent over laughing, his black sense of humor engaged. He could picture this exactly. "Oh, Shinou, he would, the _idiot!_"

"Wolfram, he'd be toast inside of ten minutes trying to get a date in _Trondheim_. It took him, what, an hour or two here to get engaged to you by accident? So anyway, you can picture what Yuuri's got on his scorecard so far. Do you think, if you dug way down deep into your heart, you might manage to forgive him for that?"

"No, I'll hold his complete _idiocy_ against him forever," Wolfram said, and they both laughed. "Oh… Thank you, Aldrich. I think I get it now. I'm sorry. I'm the one who's been an idiot."

Aldrich squeezed his shoulder. "I release thee from suicide watch for the rest of the day, and I'll check up on you later. Try not to embarrass yourself and others until Kieran's ball is over, OK, pretty vixen? And when that and the Aristocrats' summit are under control, I still think you, me, and Yuuri should sit down and have a little chat. For two adorable people, who love each other so much, you two sure cause each other a lot of pain. Let's find a way for you to stop doing that, OK?"

Wolfram nodded and exchanged a heartfelt hug with his liege lord. Then he went back to the table to retrieve his stuff, made sure the squires didn't really need him for anything, and went back to work. He'd give Yuuri a few hours to digest his note, then request permission to hold his delinquent political briefing. And… love Yuuri best he could as a friend until this thing blew over.

-oOo-

"Whatcha doin'?" asked Efram, suddenly between the two girls. They jumped.

Greta smacked him over the head with her notebook. "Don't _do_ that, Efram! Aren't you supposed to be working?"

Efram snagged the notebook and leafed through, pausing on the ball gowns. "I'm just taking the long way back from an errand. I heard you _giggling_ up here and came to take a look. Aw, c'mon Greta, you didn't _really_ talk Yuuri into a dress like this?!?" He'd found her sketch of the dress Greta wanted to buy before Esmelda confiscated the book of prostitute designs.

Greta snatched the notebook back. "_No._ The dressmaker vetoed that one… This sketch is the one we ordered."

Efram sat cross-legged beside her, chin on fists, and stared at Tomas. "Hi, I'm Efram von Bielenfeld. Please excuse Greta's rudeness. Her mother and I _try_ to teach her manners, but…" He shook his head in mock sorrow. Greta hit him.

"Tomas Vespasian. Nice to meet you, Efram."

"Efram's my Chichiue Wolfram's brother. He's terrified that Lord Aldrich's going to push him on Kieran von Donaghie as Bielenfeld's best hope," Greta goaded.

"_No,_ Shinou be praised, I am saved! My Lord Aldrich shall not sell me to the von Donaghies. Oh, it was so scary, so scary!" Efram buried his face in Greta's shoulder in mock tears. She laughed.

"Would that be such a terrible fate?" asked Tomas.

"He's scared that Kieran has _'skin growths'_ on her face," teased Greta.

"Ooh, you're a Spitzweg," observed Efram. "Do you know what Kieran looks like?"

"Does it matter?" asked Tomas.

Efram took this as a sincere philosophical question, since he assumed Tomas was here as a contender for Kieran's hand. He sighed. "Well, it would be a nice bonus. I guess. I'm sorry, Tomas. I'm too young for this contest. And I'm supposedly the highest ranked contender from Bielenfeld. But, until a couple years ago, I was just Chichiue's second illegitimate son. I do think I deserve to be a von Bielenfeld but… I still feel like a trainee or something."

"Well, I hear you're pretty well regarded in Bielenfeld on your own merits," said Tomas. "Though you _are_ awfully young to be sent away to Donaghie."

"Wow, you really study the competition! I'm… embarrassed! Hm, my brother Wolfram and his older half-brothers know 'em all. Though… well, I'm eager to see who comes from Gratz and Trondheim, those are Aldrich's closest cronies, and they have similar societies to Donaghie's."

"I hear Lord Donaghie vetoed Trondheim," offered Tomas.

"Who would be best from Bielenfeld?" prompted Greta.

"Wolfram. By far."

Greta slapped him. "That's not funny! My Chichiue Wolfram stays_ here!_"

Efram shrugged unrepentantly. "I'm just saying, if he and Yuuri really broke up. He almost got Bielenfeld not so long ago, you know. He chose Yuuri instead. But if he and Yuuri break up, I don't think he can stay _here_."

"Assuming Wolfram's not available. Say you're picking for your favorite niece, who would you pick?"

"But they're too old for Frieda," Efram joked, and ducked the notebook. "Sylvain von Tarkenburg. Absolutely."

"He's kinda old for Kieran," observed Tomas.

Efram shook his head emphatically. "He's a leader, he's trained for the rule of a complex plantation with agriculture and shipping and manufacturing sectors, he's well educated, has excellent connections in neighboring Bielenfeld, and he knows Aldrich's closest friends as well, the Lords of Gratz and Trondheim. He lived in Castle Bielenfeld for decades while he went to school. He could rule Donaghie today and be respected among the Eleven. _And,_ he's a great guy. He's awesome with kids. I'm sixty years younger, and was just some illegitimate brat the eccentric Lord Manfred brought to parties. But Sylvain never talked down to me, was always friendly. Toby and Kyle down there had to change their tune when I was legitimated, but never Sylvain. He makes everyone feel well liked and appreciated. I dunno if Kieran will have better choices. I do know she'd never regret choosing him, though. Sylvain's seriously good folk. So, Tomas, what do you think of your chances?"

Tomas waived that away. "I'm here for the secondary market." She meant the majority who wouldn't win the grand prize of Donaghie – they would still look toward negotiating betrothals someday, if not this week.

"Well, better you than me," concluded Efram, getting up. "If I'm not old enough for the secondary market, I sure wasn't old enough for Donaghie. Well, I must away before yon squires vote me latrine duty. Maybe see you around later, Tomas. I can introduce you around to the guys if you want."

"And me!" demanded Greta.

"Sure," Efram shrugged.

"He's really cute," said Kieran/Tomas, after Efram had left.

"Yeah, and doesn't he know it!" replied Greta. "It's really fun having a brother though."

-oOo-

Yuuri had been with Gwendal when Efram came to see him. Efram insisted he'd wait until Yuuri was free, then handed him the note from Wolfram. The boy added that Aldrich had sent him, and was concerned about the rift between the Maou and his kinsman, and would be happy to help in any way he could. Then Efram skedaddled to let him read his note in private. (And detour to see who Greta was giggling with on the servants' gallery.)

Yuuri's first reaction was elation. _He didn't do it! Nobody else held him and…! _He almost ran out the door to look for Wolfram and put this whole mess behind them right then and there. But once on his feet, he paused, and turned to stare out the window instead. _Well, he didn't do what he set out to do, and I'm glad of it…_

_But he still set out to do it. And I still don't know why. I also set out to do something, and I do know why. I really do want to settle, once and for all, whether I'm OK with forsaking all girls, to never have the chance to have a biological child of my own, without ever having given girls a chance._

_That's selfish. I love Wolfram and he loves me and it would hurt him deeply, perhaps irreparably, if I put him aside._

_And_ he_ isn't selfish?_ He snorted.

_Yes, well, it's not one of his qualities I aspire to emulate, _observed Yuuri wryly. _Though… there's no way to answer the question of what I want out of life, without being a little bit selfish. We should both be selfish in that sense._

_Yes, I never thought I'd say it, but perhaps even Wolfram should be a little more selfish here. He didn't intend to marry a man, either. We got engaged by accident, and he fulfilled his honor… It's nice that we grew to care for each other, but… We both took away each other's options pretty carelessly._

_You weren't defending his options when you thought he'd been promiscuous in the baths._

_No. As a friend, even if I weren't his lover, I'd disapprove _absolutely_. After what happened to him in Mizrat, I can't think of anything worse for Wolfram's happiness or self-respect. That would have been an act of pure self-destruction._

_But a dance is but a dance, as Günter put it. It turned out I didn't really care for Deanna much, but it sure was nice to dance with her. I had fun._

_But if Wolfram flips out, gets suicidal, that's too high a price to pay._

_Suicide. Aldrich._ Just last year, Aldrich had finally decided to divorce his mentally ill wife Glynda after over a century of misery. He finally did it not in selfish desire to escape that living hell himself, but for his son, Dietrich. All his friends urged him to do it, argued that it was long overdue. And she killed herself right here in Blood Pledge Castle.

But Aldrich had done the right thing, all along, as best he could, in a bad, bad, tragic situation. Would any friend have told him otherwise? He should never have married Glynda if she'd been insane from the start. The tragedy unfolded because her insanity developed with age, and Aldrich felt honor bound to stand by her in her affliction.

_And me? If I were willing to accept a life sentence as Wolfram's emotional hostage for myself, would I be willing to accept it for my baby Bertram?_

The image of Aldrich, stunned by grief, holding his hysterical son Dietrich tight, assuring him over and over that his mother didn't kill herself because of anything Dietrich did, was indelible in Yuuri's mind.

Yuuri's heart hardened against Wolfram.

_Why am I willing to demand better for Bertram than I would for myself? Well… it doesn't matter why._

_Yes. I really do insist that Wolfram grow up a little, learn to control his emotions better, for Bertram's sake, if not mine. And I don't feel one bit guilty about that – indeed, my little blond friend has demanded that **I** grow up for the children's sake on **many** occasions. _

_And he was right to do so._

_No,_ he concluded sadly. _This isn't over yet. I still insist that Wolfram learn his lesson. And if he cannot… then perhaps… it's best that we do not marry._

The king returned to his desk, and opened the agenda for his summit with his vassals. His political advisor's input would be welcome. But he intended to read the full dossier with care for himself, to understand the most pressing concerns of his realm.

-oOo-

_Please review?_


	6. Pitchblende

**Kyou Kara Maou – Yuuri's Hot Date**

Summary: Wolfram challenges Yuuri to have a date with a girl. Loosely part of my Epilogue story arc.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to _Kyou Kara Maou_ of course.

_AN: pitchblende is uranium ore – highly radioactive._

**Chapter 6 – Pitchblende**

In port in Cavalcade, Manfred intercepted the mail again. He'd been hiding it from his wife Cecilie for a week, unable to make up his mind whether to go to Kieran's debutante ball. There was no question of whether to tell Cecilie about his illegitimate daughter. _That would be a permanent 'No'. I don't have that right._

But the latest mail included a note from Efram, begging him to come home. That was a different story. _Wolfram's blown a gasket … might hurt himself… he broke off his engagement with Yuuri and… _hit the baths?! _… wants Yuuri to date a girl. Conrad says come fast. P.S. Please don't let Aldrich send me to Donaghie!_

_Hit the baths?!? What were you thinking, pretty vixen…_ Manfred considered the fracture lines on his son's psyche, and sighed. _Heroic self-destruction…_

Efram, of course, was in greater danger of being hit by a meteorite – no one was going to betroth him to his sister. Aldrich would handle Efram in something under ten seconds. Of course, Aldrich could probably handle Wolfram, too. Though he might have too many irons in the fire right now.

Actually, Aldrich handling anyone with a suicidal streak, so soon after Glynda, was a really bad idea. Manfred might have to take care of Aldrich, too. Though that was not a prospect Manfred objected to. Cecilie might object. _Tough. She has her lovers, I have mine._

And he hadn't decided _not_ to see his daughter's ball… _I do want to see it._

"Cecilie!" he called down the gangway. "We're headed home now."

"What? We had plans this evening with Heathcrife –"

_Speaking of her lovers…_ "So send word we can't make it, and then make like a wind user. Wolfram's in trouble. We need to go _now_."

-oOo-

Yuuri had his feet on the windowsill, mulling over Spitzweg's request for drought relief, when Wolfram knocked. He stood and waved Wolfram to a seat in front of his desk, and resumed his own.

"Thank you for your note earlier, Lord Wolfram. That was… a great weight off my mind."

"Mine as well," said Wolfram softly.

Pause.

"I-" they both said simultaneously. Then both waved the other to go first. And grinned sheepishly.

Yuuri decided he was king around here. "I was just reviewing the final agenda for the aristocrat's summit and the… ball arrangements." He sighed. "I probably understood nothing of the latter. Anyway, I never did get my briefing yesterday. Would it be possible to…?"

"Yes, Sire," said Wolfram. "I was hoping to do that now." _OK, business it is. I can do business. I've been a courtier all my life._ "By now, I imagine you understand that the primary reason for the ball is to kick off marriage negotiations for the female heir, Kieran von Donaghie. Her husband then becomes the Lord von Donaghie…"

They didn't end up talking about anything personal for the next couple hours. And after the first few minutes, it became fairly comfortable. Until the end… at which point, _not_ to saying personal would be… unnatural. _This is the dangerous stretch._ They both thought it.

_Well, we both care about our kids,_ thought Wolfram. "Sire, I meant to warn you yesterday. I've forbidden Greta to attend the ball in a gown, of course." He smiled. "You know how Greta is these days – she's sure to try to bypass me."

Yuuri considered this for about half a second._ Don't go there with him, _he decided._ It's a nice dress. And we're still too close to the last fight. And Greta is **my** daughter._ "I'll keep it in mind," he said wryly. "Well. I hope the children and I will see you at dinner then, Lord Wolfram."

Wolfram accepted the dismissal gracefully, and left. _That… wasn't wonderful. But we worked together successfully, even parented together a little. It's a start._

Wolfram decided he'd been doing entirely too much of his political job and his fiancé business, and not nearly enough parenting. In truth, that was his favorite time – when he decided the rest of the day was for the children. He headed for the nursery, but this time, he let the toddlers see him, with the perennial result.

"_CHEWWWY!!!" _Frieda hit head first straight into his thigh. Bertram was none too stable walking, but ran OK. Wolfram's face broke into its widest possible grin. He held his arms out -

-oOo-

_"Wolfram!"_ cried Manfred, bracing himself for impact against a counter, as the little blond teenager barreled in, so Manfred could swoop him up into the air for a hug and a kiss. "Oh, I love you, I love you! Welcome back!" He buried his face into the unruly blond cowlicks and snuggled, every moment he could, until the boy wriggled to get down.

Wolfram stopped, and looked up at his father for guidance, when he realized there was somebody else in the cottage's clinic, where they stood.

"Lady Danielle von Donaghie, I'd like you to meet my son, Wolfram von Bielenfeld. And," he added as Aldrich caught up, "have you met my cousin, Aldrich von Bielenfeld?"

"Why no. I'm pleased to meet you both." Danielle looked a great deal like her first cousin Cecilie, though not so much that anyone would mistake the two. Danielle was visibly older. Grief lines carved her face, though she smiled a brave public smile. She lay sideways on a couch, her back propped up on the armrest.

"Wolfram, you are positively adorable!" she declared. "Did you know that I am your second cousin?" Wolfram shook his head politely. "May I give you a kinsman's hug, dear?" Wolfram nodded politely and went over to endure a hug, even returning it a little and kissing the woman on the cheek. He gave her a charming little smile – all as he'd been coached since before he could remember. He didn't mean any of it. Indeed, he'd far rather not have to hug and kiss perfect strangers, but when he didn't behave like a perfect child, he would go days without seeing Hahaue. So he was a picture perfect child. Then he could see her while she worked, even if he wasn't allowed to speak or play.

He went back to his father's good leg, huddling against him, though with perfect decorum. This whole thing was a cheat. First days at Chichiue's cottage were supposed to include big hugs all around. He wanted to see Chichiue kiss Aldrich, too. And at his father's, he wasn't ever required to act like a perfect child. Wolfram wished his mother's kinswoman would go away so they could play.

"_Oh!"_ cried Danielle suddenly, doubling over, hugging her abdomen.

Aldrich saw the blood before Manfred said anything. He swooped Wolfram up, hiding his view and getting him out of the clinic quickly. "Let's unpack and make cookies until Chichiue's done with work, OK, pretty vixen?" He feared that wouldn't be soon.

A couple hours later, Manfred and his first advanced student, Annette, had Danielle resting comfortably, clean and changed into a fresh nightgown. Annette headed out with the bloodstained laundry, to fetch an ambulance coach to bear Danielle back to her room at the Institute's medical hostel.

Manfred held Danielle's hand, and asked quietly, "Would you like me to have the baby returned to Donaghie for burial? Or, we have a beautiful plot here. Annette can walk with you there tomorrow."

"It was another monster, wasn't it," said Danielle dully. "I don't care what you do with it. Or was it?" She looked up with sudden hope. "Was it – a normal child? It was because I rode here from Donaghie that I miscarried?"

Manfred shook his head. "The baby was malformed. He was beautiful in his way, but your body aborted him because he wasn't viable. Shall I put a name on his gravestone? No? Baby von Donaghie? Or… simply a blank stone?" She finally consented to the last.

"Is it me?" she asked in a dead voice. There were no tears left, Manfred saw sadly. He suspected she'd cried an ocean over the years. "Six monsters…"

"Shh, please don't call them monsters," he murmured, caressing her hand. The fetus had horns, and hands with six fingers, feet with no toes, and other more serious functional problems. But that wasn't the point. He'd been desperately wanted, and deserved to be grieved. Calling him a monster helped no one.

"In truth, Danielle, I can find nothing wrong with you. If you've had six babies with such problems, then… I believe it's your husband who cannot have viable children. You said Lord Donaghie couldn't accompany you because of health problems?"

"Oh, he's always been sickly. It's ironic. He's the last aristocrat in all Donaghie. All the others died in the Great Troll and Demon War. He alone survived because he was so sickly."

"Could you describe these illnesses?"

"Oh, we've had the best healers, true healers and fire healers both, but… He keeps getting cancers, all benign, all cureable. But then, more grow."

Manfred frowned. "Strange. You say he's always had them, there was no starting point?"

"Well, he was a spelunker in his youth. One time he got lost in the beautiful caves above Pitchblende, and spent a few bad nights there before the rescuers found him. He says that's when his mysterious illnesses began. But the healers tell us that doesn't seem to explain anything. That's why I came here to the Institute. I was hoping, Bielenfeld…"

Manfred nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I'll research the matter. But I believe your coach is here now. Let's get you back to your own bed and servants."

Late at night, Wolfram snuggly warm and sound asleep between them, Manfred told Aldrich the strange tale.

"Sweet Shinou, there's a _town_ named _Pitchblende?"_ Aldrich exclaimed.

"I've never been there," replied Manfred. "Why?"

"In Trondheim, when a mine strikes pitchblende, it's evacuated and sealed with skull and crossbones."

"Troll superstition?" suggested Manfred.

"No. The same symptoms you're describing for Dougal von Donaghie. I met a man who slept near a pitchblende vein once. They struck through to it the next day, closed down an entire gold mine. He wasn't as lucky as Dougal. The cancers were malignant. Manfred… we have to shut down that town. Or bring real mining experts in from Trondheim to decide what has to be sealed."

"Selling troll superstition in Donaghie won't be easy – they never forgave the last Maou for letting Trondheim join Shin Makoku after the war."

"I'll find a way," promised Aldrich. He shook his head and cuddled Manfred and Wolfram tighter. "What a sad, sad situation. Let some good come of it." It was his von Trondheim mother's people's custom – immediately find a positive action to take, to redeem a terrible thing. Every curse required a blessing in response.

-oOo-

The dressmaker's girl – not Deanna – came for Greta's fitting while Tomas / Kieran was in her room. Greta hid Kieran in the closet rather than explain to the dressmaker why there was a boy in the room. Kieran peeked at the dress for a bit – pretty! but not as pretty as her own, she decided – but was distracted by a sudden whoop of _"CHEWWWY!"_ behind her. It wasn't muffled by a castle wall. She ducked under some clothes and found two eye-holes cut through a simple wall. So she looked.

It was clearly the nursery. _That makes sense. When the babies cry, Greta can look from here to see if the nannies are handling it, rather than having to dress and walk around the hall._

_Wolfram von Bielenfeld is beautiful. Those toddlers are beautiful! And so sweet and happy! The green-blond boy looks just like Efram. Oh, he's so huggable! And that little flame-top has spirit. Oh, you go, girl!_ Kieran enjoyed turning heads in a pretty dress now and then, but at heart, she was all tomboy. Most days she wore pants. She liked Frieda's spunk.

Wolfram debriefed the nanny about how their day went, and clambered onto the giant pile of floor pillows for some wrestling, tumbling, ball rolling fun with them.

"Ho, Wolfram! Mind if I come in?" Sylvain von Tarkenburg appeared, the young man Efram suggested as Kieran's best choice from Bielenfeld. "I haven't met your kids yet. Oh, this is obviously little Bertram!" Sylvain swooped the baby into the air to pealing giggles. "You look so like your brother! Yes you do!"

"He does," agreed Wolfram. "And this _gorgeous_ little hellion," he wrestled Frieda down to squeals of laughter, "is my foster-daughter Frieda von Gratz, Adelbert's daughter."

"Well, I'm very pleased to meet you, young Frieda," Sylvain said, holding out a hand to shake with her. "Aw, Wolfram, this is a great nursery! So you don't drag Bertram around court all day anymore?"

"No, only when he was in a baby basket. I want them both to play and be kids, not be on their best court behavior all the time like I was." He sighed. "You sure love kids, Sylvain. That could be a problem if you catch Kieran's fancy – she's a bit young for it yet."

"Oh, I don't know. That could go either way," replied Sylvain. "I mean, I can wait – I just borrow other people's kids to play with in the meantime. But… Lord Donaghie's in really bad shape, Wolfram. You've got to wonder what he's holding out for, what would be enough. His daughter's future settled, and the domain, sure, but… He has strong will, to have made it so long, in such pain. Aldrich says Kieran's a strong lady as well, mature for her age. She might want to give him a grandchild, before he lets go."

Kieran gasped softly. Her eyes sprouted tears and she put her hand to her mouth. _He really understands!_

Wolfram held his hand out to shake his. "I think you're right. She'd be damned lucky to have you, Sylvain."

"Thank you. Or _you,_" Sylvain added. "I heard about your split with Yuuri. You'd make a fine Lord Donaghie, Wolfram."

Wolfram hugged Bertram and put his face in the slightly green springy flock of cowlicks. "I'd take Yuuri and the kids over Bielenfeld and Donaghie. If he really wants me. But if he doesn't, I'll go. I don't know where I'll go, or what I'll do, but I'll go."

Sylvain backpedaled fast to get Wolfram out of _that_ funk, and soon they were all laughing again.

Greta's fitting took a long time, and the late afternoon proved a popular time to drop by and play with the toddlers. Kieran watched Adelbert, Conrad, Annissina, Gwendal, Efram, Raven, Franklin Lord Trondheim and his unmarried heir Erick, and Aldrich all drop by, before Wolfram himself left to dress for dinner.

_This is a fun castle,_ thought Kieran. _Nobody ever comes to visit Donagal – it's so far to travel. I'd like to live in a bustling place like this._

Kieran was starting to get bored, though, until Yuuri came in, alone.

The king told the nanny he'd dress for the evening after dinner – it was just family tonight. She could go ahead to her own supper. Then he romped on the floor a bit and dressed the kids for dinner himself, talking to them about their day, and telling them a few things he'd noticed that he thought might interest them. Actually, Kieran realized, he probably had to look hard during his day for something to tell his kids about.

She'd never seen a black-haired, black-eyed man before, and with such a pretty skin color. He was a little subdued – she gathered his rift with Wolfram was painful to them both – but he was upbeat and easy-going with the kids. _I'm not surprised Wolfram thinks he's a keeper,_ thought Kieran.

Yuuri's next stop was Greta's room, of course. Kieran felt seriously guilty about eavesdropping as Greta's father took the time to tell her how it was going with Wolfram, and why he was still determined to date a girl, at least once, before calling the engagement back on.

_He doesn't talk down to her,_ realized Kieran. _I guess that makes sense. He became Maou when he was her age, and he's not really much older than Greta._

Greta left directly with him and the babies for dinner. Kieran was looking around the room trying to decide her next move when Aldrich knocked on the door. She opened it in relief.

"Care to dine with me, my lady?" he invited with a grin.

-oOo-

"Lady von Donaghie is requesting that you father a child for her," Friedrich concluded to Manfred. Aldrich's father Friedrich ruled Bielenfeld back then. "Manfred, I'd like to tell her yes. I know this is a very hard thing, and I can't order you to do it. But I'd like you to do it.

"You were kind to her. She trusts you. She saw your child Wolfram and fell in love with a dream. Danielle looks like Cecilie, and your child together would look like Wolfram, and fit right in, not lift any eyebrows too high. Dougal von Donaghie would accept the child as his, be overjoyed with him, raise him to rule Donaghie after he dies. That could be fairly soon. And we'd keep the matter absolutely confidential.

"Speak, Manfred. What do you think?"

In the end, Manfred agreed. With his healing gifts, he could tell when conception took place. Then Danielle von Donaghie departed promptly to make love with her husband, possibly among the happiest lovemaking they'd ever had. She returned to the Institute for her last trimester, unwilling to take any risks with a baby she considered her very last chance. Manfred delivered her of a perfect baby girl.

Here and there across the years, he'd run across Kieran – she was heir to a domain, after all. But Manfred never saw or heard from Danielle again.

-oOo-

"So, you accomplished some good spying with Greta," said Aldrich, after he and Kieran had finished their meal in her room. Aldrich had already reviewed the protocols for the dance tomorrow night. "Any questions? Conclusions?"

Kieran considered. "You said ten private meetings after the ball?"

"Up to ten, as a guideline," qualified Aldrich. "Try to reserve that for the people you're seriously considering. But this is a rare opportunity, and obviously one of the most important decisions you'll ever make. Don't interview casually, yet don't skimp either, sort of thing."

"Well, I know three of them already."

"There's no rush –"

"But I know that I want to meet with them privately," insisted Kieran. "Sylvain von Tarkenburg. Wolfram von Bielenfeld. And Yuuri Maou."

Aldrich stared at his strong-minded and self-assured young blonde charge. "Kieran… you do understand that Wolfram and the Maou are engaged. They're raising children together. And you'll dance with both of them at the ball."

Kieran met his eye directly. "And their engagement is currently on hiatus." She softened her tone to make it easier for Aldrich to concede, although she was perfectly willing to insist if she had to. "I find Sylvain's suit quite compelling. But I want to meet with the other two alone as well. Only if they're willing, of course."

-oOo-

_Please review?_


	7. Shall We Dance?

**Kyou Kara Maou – Yuuri's Hot Date**

Summary: Wolfram challenges Yuuri to have a date with a girl. Loosely part of my Epilogue story arc.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to _Kyou Kara Maou_ of course.

**Chapter 7 – Shall We Dance?**

Manfred and Cecilie finally arrived at the end of breakfast on the day of Kieran's debutante ball. Much to Manfred's digust, Cecilie was delighted that Wolfram and Yuuri were _'taking others for a little test spin' _ before committing, and considered it long overdue. She called Manfred a flaming hypocrite – and worse – for suggesting there was anything _wrong_ with her baby doing a little sexual exploration.

In short, it had been a long night. Fortunately Manfred had the sense to let her sail her own damned boat while he got some bunk time. Which she also held against him, but he didn't bloody well care._ Self-infatuated narcissistic pervert…_

"Hello, hello!" Cheri cried, beaming, sailing into the breakfast room and kissing all three of her sons plus their sidekicks and the children in turn, skipping Yuuri. She latched onto Wolfram last, with a starfish cling. "Oh, have you _missed_ me, Wolfie? Oh, Hahaue's heard about your little troubles and we _must_ talk before Kieran arrives! We would have been here sooner, but there was the strangest delay in our mail! Come along, dear. Manfred can deal with Yuuri."

Manfred relaxed a quick hug with Efram. He and Yuuri eyed each other dourly. "Wanna trade?" he asked Wolfram hopefully.

"I… really would like to visit with Hahaue before Kieran arrives," said Wolfram, awkwardly excusing himself to leave with her. "We'll talk later, I hope, Chichiue?" He hoped no such thing._ We've never spoken of Kieran. Today would be a bad day to start, for both of us, I imagine…_

Manfred inclined his head. "Of course, pretty vixen." He selected a Maou bun from the basket on the table as Wolfram departed. "So. Yuuri. You don't want any advice from me. Do you." It wasn't a question. Manfred bit the head off the Maou bun.

"Ah, not especially. No," agreed Yuuri.

"Mm, well-if-you-need-anything-be-sure-to-ask. So, hey – does anyone know where Aldrich is?"

"Down on the lawn exercising with the Tronds, I think," offered Conrad.

Manfred waved thanks, and left.

"That was… invigorating," Gwendal grumbled.

"Almost like being an orphan sometimes, isn't it?" Greta teased Efram. She'd caught Wolfram's – and Efram's – habit of goading people out of feeling sorry for themselves.

Efram shrugged. "I'm too old to be babysat. He's just worried about Wolfram." Though he did hope his father would remember him, today, too. This was his first formal ball.

-oOo-

"But _Hahaue!_ I don't _want_ anyone else!"

Cheri continued inspecting his wardrobe for the best uniform, ruffles, and jewelry for the evening, and setting out her picks of the crop. "Well, of _course_ not, dear – it's just how the game is played. If you cling too tightly, men get claustrophobic. If you run away, they run after you. It's a _dance,_ darling, a game of tag, all in good fun."

"I don't play _games_ with people's _feelings_, Hahaue! Yuuri isn't a toy. And _Chichiue_ isn't either." Wolfram winced, noting yet again, that somehow he'd never gotten between his parents and their vicious attacks, until _after_ they got married. Since then… _Great-uncle Friedrich was right - they really are a match made in hell._ He sighed. "Never mind. That's none of my business."

Cheri shot him a knowing dark green look. "We can never judge our insides by other people's outsides, Wolfie. That goes for relationships as well as individuals. Come sit by Hahaue." She patted the bed, and held his hand as he sat next to her. "Wolfie… oh, _sweet_ Wolfie… I know you're worried. But what the caterpillar calls the end of the world, turns out to be a butterfly. You're just growing _up,_ darling, and that can be scary sometimes. But one hopes a marriage will last a very long time. It needs _flexibility, _darling, room to grow. You're being too inflexible. If you were this stiff taking a fall to dodge a blade, you'd break an arm! In a fight, you know you have to relax and roll with the punches. But it's the same with relationships, darling. If you're brittle, you shatter."

"I guess you're right."

"Of _course_ I am, Wolfie. Now the best way to be strong, is to know that you'll be alright, no matter what happens. Now I want you to be brave darling, and hear me when I say this. To keep Yuuri, to have a happy life with Yuuri, you need to know, deep down in your heart, that you don't _need_ him, you just _choose_ him."

Wolfram shook his head vigorously. "No –"

"Yes, darling," said Cheri. Her voice and hands were velvet soft, but her green eyes flashed the strength of diamonds. "The best gift you can give _either _of you, is to show _both_ of you tonight, that you're free to choose. Then, only then, can you really give yourself as a _gift_ to your husband, and not a burden."

Wolfram's head started to droop lower, but it stopped halfway and snapped back up, green eyes flashing diabolically. "Like _hell_ I am! I am _not_ a burden to that _wimp_, Hahaue!"

Cheri pulled back, and smiled a proud mama's evil green demon smile. "_Exactly, _Wolfie. Ah, you'll make Manfred and me proud of our prettiest little fire demon tonight, won't you? And do Yuuri proud as well, of course. Make every girl at the ball envy him if he gets you! And some of the men as well, hm?"

Wolfram's face faltered a little, thinking of those girls.

Cheri pursed her lips. "And Wolfie, I'd consider it a _personal_ favor to me if you outshine the _sun_ when you dance with Kieran. I'm afraid the poor little thing's been so _sheltered_ in Donaghie. Help her see herself as the grand prize of the ball, as she really_ is! _And give her confidence that she deserves every bit of it. Make those other boys try a little harder. You can do that, can't you?"

She smiled an evil green-eyed demon smile of challenge. Wolfram accepted the challenge with a perfectly matched green-eyed evil demon smile. "Now, _that's_ my baby," Cheri purred.

-oOo-

"So – good to see you, Manfred! I was afraid you weren't coming," said Aldrich, when he returned to his room. He'd taken a solo detour to switch name plates on Kieran's room and tell her to stay put today, now that her cousin Cecilie was back. "Sorry to make you wait for me here, but…"

Manfred smiled and met him for a hug and a long kiss. "I know, it's a zoo. But I wanted to check in on you. How are you doing?"

"Me? Fine. Hectic." Aldrich started moving again. "I haven't said anything about you to Wolfram or Kieran. I think Efram's fine. Wolfram so-so –"

Manfred snagged him back and made him sit on the bed, and held his face. "Aldrich, I asked how _you're_ doing. I haven't seen you for a couple months." He gave Aldrich a searching look, and kissed him tenderly again.

"I'm… fine." Manfred kissed him again. "Getting finer?" Again. "Would you believe, not half bad right now?" They both laughed. Aldrich sighed. "It's getting easier. I keep… busy."

"I can see that. Taking care of all my children for me... I'd like to take the sons back, so you can concentrate on Kieran. Is yours here yet?"

"No, Chichi has Dietrich for the week. They'll come down for the ball tonight, and I'll steal an hour or so with him tomorrow, but… Then Chichi will take him back home, so I can deal with all this. I don't think Diet's up to this kind of zoo yet. He's still pretty skittish."

"A quiet life is best then," Manfred murmured agreement. He'd worked around to Aldrich's exercise-sweaty back, to give him a neckrub. "It'll be good for you, too, to have Chichi here tonight as emotional backup. I wish I could be more help. So… what's Wolfram's situation?"

"Nah, I've got it, Manfred. I'm sure you're freaked about Kieran."

"Yes, and I'd rather worry about Wolfram than myself, thanks. And I don't think you should deal with Wolfram and Yuuri. Hits too close to home. So. You need a bath before getting dressed for the day, anyway. How about you tell me about pretty vixen's troubles while we're in the tub, hm?"

The bath took longer that way, but both men felt a whole lot more relaxed to face the day.

-oOo-

Greta barricaded the door with her back.

"Greta…" said Wolfram in warning.

"Wimpue's taking me to the ball, Chichiue Wolfram. I _promised_ him." If Wolfram saw her dress at this point, she'd be back in knickers in a flash, and probably grounded to her bedroom for the night as well.

Manfred put his hand on Wolfram's shoulder. "We have to go, son. Save me a dance, Greta?"

"Of course, Chichiue Manfred!"

"And me?" demanded Efram. He was disappointed Greta didn't peek out to see him. He'd amazed himself how aristocratic he looked, glittering in his new ballroom finery, groomed and jeweled to his father and brother's gorgeous standards. But Manfred vetoed Wolfram's evening makeup for Efram, no matter how subtle. "Promise to dance with me?"

"I'll think about it," she teased, grinning. "Chichiue Wolfram? I have to dance with Wimpue first. But I want to dance with the most handsome man at the ball second. Will you save that dance for me?"

She got him. Wolfram placed his hand on the door in blessing and smiled, almost blushed. "The second dance it is, pretty princess. I'll see you at the ball."

Manfred put his arms around his sons and led them to the ballroom. He was glad they'd done the grooming thing together. Sober one-on-ones waded into deep waters. The three of them playing dressup and trading flirting tips with Efram kept things in the right perspective. The real considerations of aristocratic marriages happened before and after, and none of the three of them were on auction tonight, really. _So keep it light and fun. A dance is but a dance._

The first snag was receiving their dance cards. Wolfram's second dance had already been assigned to Kieran, though his first was empty. His next free slot was the tenth. Efram was already reserved from second to twelfth slots. Wolfram and Manfred hung onto him laughing as he tried to bolt. Manfred's card was empty – it had been almost 90 years since he'd last been able to dance at a ball, and he was married – so he offered to give Greta Wolfram and Efram's regrets. He tried to start a card for Greta, only to find she'd already been assigned one, though it was wide open. Grinning, they reserved their slots.

"Go on ahead," Wolfram told his father and brother. "Excuse me, I'd like to reserve a dance with the Maou?" He extended his card. A wide-eyed boy failed to take it, and excused himself to scurry off after someone more senior. Manfred grabbed Efram's arm and dragged him back to wait with Wolfram for moral support.

Günter arrived, wringing his hands, the matter apparently having been bumped to The Top by frightened protocol flunkies. "Ah, Lord Wolfram! A thousand apologies! But… it appears His Majesty's card was accidentally filled without reserving you a slot."

Wolfram twitched. "Could you. Fix that. Günter."

"Ah – !"

"Never mind, Günter," said Manfred. "Sorry to trouble you, we know you're busy. Come on, son. He may save his last dance for you." The last dance could never be reserved by signing up unilaterally – two people agreed to that verbally.

-oOo-

Eventually, the lights signalled the presentations, and Günter took the majutsu-enhanced announcement horn. They still hadn't seen Greta or Yuuri, which was a little worrisome. But his castle or no, he wasn't actually the host tonight – Aldrich was.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the heir, Lady Kieran von Donaghie, presented by Aldrich von Trondheim Lord Bielenfeld!"

Kieran stepped into the light at the top of the entry stairs, gracing Aldrich's right hand. She was stunning. Her dress was in the von Donaghie colors – grey and pink, or as the Donaghies called it, _'flesh and steel'_. There were no flounces, no fiddly bits, no gimmicks, not even spaghetti straps – the visual interest lay in the cloth itself and the body it showcased. A fabric like quicksilver draped a flawless petite figure, showing every perfect curve, dripping from a top band of pink cresting the breasts. The arm length gloves were also pink-topped quicksilver. Diamonds and pink sapphires, set in silver, graced neck and ears. Her shining layered blond hair hung loose, a bed-tousled mane reaching just below her shoulders, cut shorter to flounce around in cowlicks and bangs around her face. Her green eyes gleamed huge.

She looked exactly like Wolfram. Writ female. Gorgeously so.

Efram stared at Manfred. The rest of the room stared back and forth between Kieran and Wolfram, who stood near the base of the entrance stairs. Kieran, who'd come in with head held high and a jaunty smile, stared back. She glanced sideways at Aldrich. The pause was getting remarkable. She started to look down at her dress to see if something horrifying was on it.

"_Clap, dammit,"_ Aldrich prompted Günter. Wolfram and Manfred were already clapping hard to get their corner of the room started. With Günter's added kickstart, eventually a huge round of applause was achieved. Kieran and Aldrich proceeded to the dance card station before taking the floor. There was significant buzz in the room. Aldrich assured Kieran they were simply stunned by her beauty. She shot him a true _'Emeraude von Bielenfeld'_ sideways green-eyed demon glare in return. _I don't think so, Aldrich._

With the studied professionalism of a lifelong courtier, Wolfram ignored the stares headed their way, and clapped for each succeeding presentation. Since there were many, much of the room was conversing and simply clapping when everyone else did. It did get boring after a while.

Therefore it was the squeaky tone, and crack in Günter's voice, before the words registered, that made everyone look to the top of the stairs again. "And last, but certainly not least! Greta Shibuya, daughter of the Maou, presented by Yuuri Shibuya, the Maou!"

_"Yuuri, you idiot!"_ cried Wolfram.

It wasn't especially loud. Not really.

However everyone else in the room happened to be speechless at that moment. So it rang through the room like a bell. For Yuuri had just announced to the room that he was offering his 15-year-old human daughter's hand in marriage to the assembled group, and that he, he _personally,_ would be carrying out all negotiations for said marriage. Greta looked lovely. But she had brown skin and red-brown curly hair. This was a prospective marriage ball for only the highest Mazoku, the most gifted majutsu users, in Shin Makoku. Was the Maou demanding that one of _them_ marry _her?_

Yuuri turned his head toward Wolfram, his hair rising slightly, a touch of blue fire playing in it. Wolfram buried his burning face in a gold satin gloved hand.

Manfred mounted the stairs, matching the blue fire in Yuuri's hair and raising it with bonus orange fire playing in his own – more in a sparks-flying sort of way, than a bishounen-halo sort of way. More quietly than Wolfram had done – and in a room significantly louder with consternation – he said, "Günter correct the damned announcement, Yuuri let go of her hand, Greta – Darling, you look _gorgeous!"_ A surprised Yuuri, confronted by one of the few people in Shin Makoku who still intimidated him completely, lost his blue sparks and stepped back. Manfred grinned assurance at Greta, who grinned back, and he bowed and held her hand high.

Günter said, "Ah, correction! My apologies! Greta Shibuya, daughter of the Maou, presented by Lord Manfred von Bielenfeld!"

The applause was thunderous. Granted, most of that applause was for Manfred's sheer audacity, but Greta got applause, nonetheless. They proceeded to the dance card station and the dance floor.

Yuuri inquired with Günter if this meant he'd lost the pleasure of the first dance of the evening with his daughter. He was regretfully informed, with great hand-wringing, that yes, it did mean precisely that, among other things... And further, unless someone else was willing to give up a slot on Yuuri's dance card, he had exactly one dance free, to choose between Wolfram and Greta, but that he'd have to ask Wolfram or Greta for it directly.

Yuuri groaned.

Aldrich looked like he was consulting telepathically with his father Friedrich, who was better positioned to strangle their liege lord the Maou.

Wolfram mounted the stairs and took Günter's arm, "Günter, perhaps you could announce the Maou's entrance so that we might begin the ball? Yuuri, Sire, I apologize profusely, and stand ready to explain whatever you desire, at the _foot_ of the stairs. Just get off the stairs. Quickly. Please." He strode back down to wait, arms crossed. Günter announced the Maou, to rather thin applause. He walked down to join Wolfram with vast reluctance.

Wolfram bowed and stayed bowed, "My apologies, Sire. My outburst was unseemly. I was – surprised. Please forgive me."

"Ah, get up, Wolfram," Yuuri said, and waited until Wolfram unbowed to continue. "Apology declined, on the grounds I owe you one. Apparently I have no idea what I just did, and you tried to warn me not to, and I did it anyway, so… Could you just… explain to me what just happened?"

Wolfram did so as the girls began to dance with their marriage brokers. "Sire, I… expected, when the time came to offer Greta's hand… Shinou, please not soon… well, in about five more years at the _earliest_… We might hold such a ball and invite human princes."

Yuuri was the one with his face in his glove now. And then he began to laugh. Finally he threw back his head and said, "Ah, no, I guess the apologies don't cancel out at all. I owe you one, far more, for being an idiot. As usual. I don't know why you should keep forgiving me for the same offense. Though I'm grateful that you do. Forgive me, again, my friend?"

Wolfram shot him an evil green-eyed demon smirk. "Forgiven. Idiot. It's who you _are,_ after all."

Yuuri chuckled. "Oh! But I have another apology owed already, and I just made it into the room. But – I'm not sure who to give it to. Wolfram… I wanted to dance the first dance with Greta, and the last dance with you. I don't know what to do."

Wolfram's heart leapt. _The offer is enough._ He smiled shyly – a smile that had no professional polish on it whatsoever. A private bedroom smile of very very pleased. "Thank you, Yuuri. Offer Greta the last dance," he said. "It's her first ball. And I promised her the second dance, but I'm on Kieran's dance card for the second – there's no way to reshuffle Kieran's dance card. I am… happy beyond measure that you offered it to me. Thank you. But offer it to Greta."

Yuuri nodded his own private smile. "She might offer it back to you, you know."

Wolfram laughed. "Well, I leave you to her persuasive wiles, then. It doesn't matter who you choose then, Yuuri, for we'll all three have won, won't we? Dance with her. She'll grow up before we know it."

"True enough. Oh, say, Wolfram, they'd already finished half the line before Greta and I joined. Which one's this mystery girl Kieran von Donaghie? No one knew what she looked like?"

"Yuuri… Gwendal and Conrad and I knew all along what she looked like. She's our third cousin on our mother's side. Get your dance card quick, and line up with me on the side of the dance floor. She's my first dance."

He hurried. He joined Wolfram. He tried to catch a glimpse through the mass of dancers to pick out who was dancing with Aldrich, but apparently she was short, and Aldrich was tall, and they were on the far side. He did exchange wide smiles with Greta, though. Yuuri glanced at his card. _Vedanya von Trondheim_ – he was fairly sure that was Franklin Lord Trondheim's daughter. And a blue-haired giantess, on the arm of a blue-haired giant, both with sporty sunglasses, were indeed headed his way. As Greta came off the dance floor, he whispered quickly, "Save the last dance for me?" She nodded emphatically and they grinned at each other.

He turned back, and stared, speechless. Everyone else in the vicinity was doing the same. Including Kieran von Donaghie, for it could be none other than her, as Wolfram stepped forward, bowed elegantly, and extended his hand.

Her hand rose dreamlike to meet his. Yes, she'd seen him, from a distance, over the past couple days. Yes, she'd known all her life they looked alike – her Spitzweg relatives had always remarked on it. But she was no longer a pudgy tweenager, he no longer a thin pre-adolescent. And they were two feet apart, staring straight into each other's faces. It was like staring into a mirror.

He crooked an evil green-eyed demon smile. Surprised and amused, she matched it. "Shall we dance, my lady?" he invited with graceful swoop of the arm.

"Yes, let's. My lord."

Vedanya von Trondheim cleared her throat. Yuuri realized his mouth was hanging open, and promptly shut it. He bowed, took her hand, and led her onto the dance floor. Dancing with a woman in sunglasses, who stood a foot taller than he, was only a slight distraction. Well, actually he ran into her time and again, because his gaze was riveted by the stunningly gorgeous blond matched pair. _It's a girl Wolfram! _

When the dance was over, Vedanya curtseyed her good-bye in poor humor. He'd barely spoken to her. Gulping, Yuuri firmly promised himself he'd do better. But every time Kieran swung by him on the dance floor, he landed on his dance partner's feet. One girl even suggested to him pointedly that he already _had_ Donaghie as king, he didn't need to marry into it. He tried time and again to get interested in one of the other girls, but it just didn't work. Wolfram looked… glorious. He was having a good time, and the girls blossomed into their greatest beauty in his arms. And Kieran… he'd never experienced love at first sight like this before. Except… Wolfram, maybe, though he certainly wouldn't have called it that at the time.

-oOo-

As Wolfram led Kieran onto the dance floor, both with perfect grace, she continued to gaze at him. "It's been a long time, cousin," he said. "You've grown into a great beauty."

"As have you, cousin," she replied, as the music began. Wolfram gave her the sure lead of a superb dancer, and they floated in flawness synchrony across the floor. "The resemblance was remarkable when we were little. Now it's nothing short of stunning. Is that why everyone gaped instead of applauding, when I entered?"

"Maybe," said Wolfram. "More likely, they were simply struck speechless by your beauty. This ball was packed for the heir of Donaghie, not the greatest beauty of all Shin Makoku. For both in one person – the grand prize of the ball suddenly squared in value. May I ask if you're a fire user?" Not a fire healer – they only came in male.

"You're trying to change the subject," said Kieran with a smile.

"I am trying to help my kinswoman enjoy her vastly successful first ball. This is a night of glory for a beautiful woman, Kieran. Everyone here wants you, and you can take your pick. So enjoy it."

"_Everyone,_ Wolfram?" she asked, eyebrow cocked.

He laughed. "Perhaps not everyone, but more than enough. Before the dance ends, might I give you a recommendation? There may be other men here as good, but none that I know of, and I know more than most. If you want a happy life, and a prosperous domain – marry Sylvain von Tarkenburg, Kieran."

"Not you, cousin?"

Wolfram smiled at her sadly. "In that case, my lady, you would be getting a second-hand broken heart mending project. Choose Sylvain, or better."

Kieran quirked a smile. "I shall take that under advisement. I very much enjoyed our dance. We will speak again, Wolfram."

He led her to the next man on her card, bowed, and proceeded to wait for the lady of dance slot number three.

-oOo-

Efram couldn't imagine what his name was doing on Kieran's packed dance card. Bad enough to be dancing with her at all, when the room was packed with men who'd give anything to marry her and couldn't, and _he_ didn't want to. But she was Wolfram's _twin!_ Other people might harbor doubts about a coincidence, but – empty basket, missing sister, promiscuous father, Wolfram inexplicably losing a gasket – no way in hell was this a coincidence! _That girl's my long-lost sister! _His palms were sweating as he waited for her to collect him on the sideline.

She approached. He bowed, gulped, held out his hand to take hers, and gazed at her.

Then he really looked. And cracked into a broad grin, throwing his arms wide.

"Tomas! _Buddy!_ How ya doing, man?" He mock-punched her on the arm. There were a number of gasps and snickers nearby.

Kieran laughed and threw her arms wide as well. "Hey, look," she swaggered around, "can I do drag or what, huh? _Huh?_"

"Nah, I can still tell you're a guy. Next time, man, shave off the mustache."

She grabbed him in a headlock and dragged him out onto the dance floor, both howling in laughter, others laughing nervously in their wake.

Manfred had his hand over his mouth, watching this, not knowing why on earth… Friedrich leaned an elbow on his shoulder and said, "Six, only _two_ were mine, but _six_ of you I raised, and every day I cursed you, you see. _'May you grow up to –'_"

_"'- have have children Just Like You,'"_ Manfred completed the quote, both of them laughing.

"The _least_ embarassing of you monsters was Miss Ricky the Social Troll over there, known throughout the Shin Makoku military as the _'duck-fucker of the baths'_, and if anyone _ever_ asks me to explain that _again_, I shall have to _scream_. Do you know in Trondheim, men have to _present_ their children in _public_ and be _judged_ on their quality? The humiliation is too horrifying to contemplate."

"Oh…" Manfred wiped laughter tears from his eyes. He whispered, "Oh, Shinou, Uncle. Please, tell me it's just my imagination, and not _everyone _in this room is staring at me, thinking that she's my daughter."

"Well, I don't know if it'll make you feel any better, but I believe opinion is divided between you, me, and Stoeffel. I find it flattering myself. Well, except for the Stoeffel bit. That's kind of insulting, really."

Manfred laughed. "Oh… does anyone think Dougal, though?"

"Yes. _He_ does. And it's brought him the greatest joy of his life. And who would tell a dying man otherwise, who doesn't want to believe it? You done good, Manfred. And done no harm. She's a fine young lady, and no one would hold it against her if they knew. But nephew, on to more important matters – I'm concerned about your pitch black sense of humor. A young man like you should be chipper and gay. I don't know where you get that wicked humor from."

Manfred fell laughing into his shoulder. "And of those six – _only two of them yours –_ you _got stuck raising_, which one actually turned out _Just Like You?_"

"Why, that would be _you,_ Neffie. The horror, like looking in a mirror." They both hugged each other laughing deep dark demon laughter. "_That_ one, though, your little green fire pixie, you know who _he_ reminds me of, don't you? That would be _your _father, the most _wicked_ little monster of them all…"

"You two are having way too much fun," said Aldrich, as he and his best friend Franklin Lord Trondheim joined them. "You know, Manfred, the intent here was to start marketing Efram as a desirable top-notch aristocrat."

"Yeah, he may need a few more rough corners… beaten off," said Manfred.

"We were discussing that very thing," offered Friedrich. "Manfred's prospects for accomplishing that, a child who isn't a complete embarrassment."

_"'Just Like You',"_ said Aldrich, laughing.

"Revenge is _sweet,_" agreed Friedrich.

"So, Manfred, is she?" asked Franklin.

"A she? Yeah, I think Efram may be wrong on that one."

"Oh, I dunno," opined Friedrich. "He could be in drag. Though it's Wolfram_ I've_ always suspected was the cross-dresser."

Franklin laughed. "O. K. And Greta? Manfred, what are you looking for in a husband for Greta?"

"Hm. Human male, prince or higher, I'm thinking a southern kingdom with great beaches and a large orange crop. Anybody who wants to dance with her can simply sign up, though."

"Yuuri screwed up," Franklin summarized.

"To paraphrase," Manfred agreed. "She does look happy, though – great dress, and she's getting to dance. No harm done. Or – is anybody seriously thinking we're trying to marry her off to a Mazoku aristocrat?"

Franklin grinned. "A human? To an aristocrat? Not with a von Bielenfeld acting as marriage broker."

"Well, then, I was the _perfect_ choice. Somehow. Accidentally," said Manfred. "Funny how these accidents pile up around Yuuri."

"Hey, Manfred, how's your dance card?" asked Aldrich.

"Blank as the virgin snow. Why, you want to dance with me?"

"Yes, please."

-oOo-

_Ooh, last chapter I forgot to mention - there's a new Christmas Yuuram picture from bananam00n on my homepage link. I'm working on coloring an illustration for _Epilogue_ from one of her sketches (the Fully Justified Kick.) Well, actually I'm writing now, but I'll get back to it soon._

_Please review?_


	8. Lady's Choice

**Kyou Kara Maou – Yuuri's Hot Date**

Summary: Wolfram challenges Yuuri to have a date with a girl. Loosely part of my Epilogue story arc.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to _Kyou Kara Maou_ of course.

_AN: For those in metric countries, Vedanya (the shortest von Trondheim) stands 191 cm. Kieran is 160 cm, Wolfram 167, Manfred 168, Yuuri maybe 173 by now. Aldrich looms above the other von Bielenfelds at 185 cm._

**Chapter 8 – Lady's Choice**

After every fifth dance, there was a break for grazing and socializing. Considering Yuuri's resounding failure to connect with anyone he was dancing with, it was no surprise he was left standing alone, at loose ends. Wolfram was surrounded by a flock of girls, Efram as well, and Kieran was making the acquaintance of her fellow heirs Dietrich von Bielenfeld and Trenton von Gratz, best friends who were less than half her age. Yuuri's own dance slot with Kieran was toward the end of the ball. He considered drifting with the tried and true, making conversation with Conrad and Adelbert, but his feet didn't move.

_What am I doing?_ he wondered. _What do you want to do?_ he answered himself.

A laughing Wolfram detached himself from some admirers and joined him. "Sire? You look lost." His face was beautifully flushed from dancing and smiling. Having already had a monster hangover this week, he was sticking to the dancer's deep goblets of sparkling water.

"Ah, you're right," confided Yuuri. "I feel like I'm screwing this whole evening up, and I'm not sure… what to do about it. I keep dancing with a girl and… not connecting. Girls dance with you, and it's like they glow with happiness. Girls dance with me and look glad to be rid of me at the end. Ah… any advice?"

Wolfram laughed softly. "Well, Yuuri… the rest of the world has to go away. There's only the person in your arms. Everyone else is just… obstacles to not run into. I just put all my attention on trying to make her feel appreciated and graceful at the dance."

Yuuri smiled at him. "You're good at this."

Wolfram shrugged. Actually, he'd surprised himself – he hadn't danced at a marriage ball since before Yuuri came, and had been awkward and stiff at it then. He'd grown up and relaxed a lot with Yuuri. Well, and Aldrich and Hahaue and Conrad and Chichiue _made_ him screw his head on straight for tonight. "Yeah, I guess I am, tonight," he said with a smile. "But Yuuri – you're _much_ better at it. You listen to people with your whole attention, make everyone feel special, all the time. Usually… It's not like you to be so stiff, so serious." Wolfram stole a look at him from under his eyelashes.

"I'm… not being myself, am I…" said Yuuri. _That's why. That's why everything is off. I'm thinking this person's more important than that, this issue's more important than that… I'm not usually this judgmental._ "I think… I owe Vedanya von Trondheim an apology," he confided.

"Mm, if you ignored her, you certainly do," agreed Wolfram. "It's hard for the von Trondheims – they're not fully accepted in society yet, not fully compatible with Shin Makoku custom. They're too tall, too strange, matriarchal instead of patriarchal, forced into the federation by Maou's decree, not welcome. She probably had high hopes for you to help her be accepted. Ah – it'll have to wait for next break, time to line up again."

Yuuri did a lot better in the second set of dances, applying Wolfram's advice. He put all his attention off of himself and Kieran and Wolfram, and onto finding the charm of the girl in his arms. This set, they curtseyed and gave him real smiles at the end. But he was still certain that they had no particular desire to ever dance with him again, nor he them.

_Maybe they're simply sure they never will,_ he told himself. But he was unconvinced. _I think I'm still not connecting._

-oOo-

Kieran tried her best, but with most of her dances, there was no spark. They each had some variation on a 30-second set speech, usually focused on why he thought he'd make a good Lord Donaghie. This was fair enough, she supposed. She wasn't in the market for a Lord Donaghie to rule over her, however. She had every intention of ruling her own domain, thank you kindly.

Her own set piece was prompted by Wolfram – she asked each man whom he would recommend her to marry. The ones who were thrown by the question she ruled out of the running. The ones who lectured her she disliked. The ones who used the opportunity to press their own cause, well, that was fair enough, and she judged by the quality of their answers. More than one, like Wolfram, recommended someone else, at least in addition to himself. At their parting, she met each man squarely in the eye. A couple who'd passed until then, failed at the end – they looked like they weren't at all sure they liked her.

_I want to be liked. So far, the only ones who seemed to really _like_ me were Lords Wolfram and Efram. Or is it that I haven't liked them?_ But Aldrich stepped in to debrief her on results so far, and remind her regularly, that each man was a clean slate. Try to give each a fresh chance and an open mind.

She took Sylvain's hand. His approach was different. He spent his dance getting to know _her_, the girl, Kieran. He complimented her on how beautiful she was, but also on what he'd learned researching her, about her accomplishments and interests. He inquired after her father's health and care arrangements. And she inquired in kind – of course she'd researched every man she'd picked for her dance card. Time was almost up before she remembered her yardstick question.

"Aside from me?" he answered. "I'm afraid I don't know as many outside Bielenfeld as I'd like. Lord Wolfram would excel, but his heart lies elsewhere. Lord Erick, but he'll inherit Trondheim. Of us squires… I believe I'd be the best choice."

When she curtseyed her farewell and looked him in the eye, he returned her jaunty smile with a warm smile and direct gaze of his own. _She_ broke the gaze, blushing – the first time _that_ had ever happened. She glanced back over her shoulder as she walked away, but as it should be, his attention was entirely on the girl he was to dance with next.

_You've not much competition so far, Sylvain von Tarkenburg, and some fine recommendations._ But she'd already told Aldrich she wished to interview him. She dutifully cleared him from her mind to give the next man a fair chance.

-oOo-

Efram dutifully swapped his dance card at the second break – there was no reason before, since it was full until the third set. "Whoa!" he said. To his amazement, the card was completely full.

"You made a big impression in your dance with Lady Kieran," said the girl at the desk, with a big grin. "Your slots went like Maou buns after that!"

"For being a goofball? Really? Cool!" He scanned down the list to see if he actually knew any of his new fans. "Hey, wait a minute… I had a dance with Greta Shibuya in slot 13."

"Did you write it on both cards?" the protocol girl asked in dismay. "The one you kept and the copy we kept here to swap out with you?"

"I… no," said Efram, crestfallen. This was his first dance card ever. He'd forgotten he needed to update both cards. "Sorry, my fault, not yours."

He walked over to Greta. "I'm sorry," he said, almost in tears, as he explained that he couldn't dance with her. "And you're the only person I really wanted to dance with. You grow up so fast. You were like my little sister just a couple years ago, and now you're almost my big sister, and pretty soon you'll be a grown up and I'll still be a kid, and –" He turned away to get a hold of himself before he cried. "I just really wanted to dance with you tonight, before you leave me behind."

"I'll dance the last dance with you, Efram," she said, and hugged him. "Wimpue will always be my father. I'll just cancel on him. It's OK."

She ran over to Yuuri and explained. "Please, Yuuri? Do you mind? It's just… Efram was about to cry, and… Now you can dance with Wolfram!"

"Of course it's OK, Greta. I'm the one who messed up the first dance, after all." They exchanged big hugs.

Wolfram joined them. "What's everyone so upset about, Greta?" Greta explained, then bounced off to tell Efram they were definitely on for the last dance.

Yuuri smiled at Wolfram. "So, I have the last dance free after all. Will you dance with me, Lord Wolfram?"

"I – oh, Yuuri," he said sadly. "There's nothing I'd rather do. But Kieran already asked me."

_That hurt. Both of us, I think._ But Yuuri smiled gently, and said, "I understand. Perhaps… Lady Vedanya will allow me to redeem myself. If you'll excuse me… Ah, Wolfram? Dance with Greta for both of us, would you?"

Wolfram nodded, and they shared a sad smile.

Ted and Franklin von Trondheim appeared to be the only Tronds here tonight who'd made it out of the ghetto. The rest stood in a clump in their sunglasses, ranging upwards in height from the relatively tiny Vedanya at six foot three. Yuuri approached and bowed, and begged a word. She reluctantly stepped aside with him.

"I owe you an apology, Lady Vedanya. I'm afraid I was distracted during our dance, about how I'd screwed up Shin Makoku customs yet again. I hope you'll forgive me."

Vedanya curtseyed. "I can well relate, believe me. These people form a very closed society. Apology accepted, Sire."

"Will you let me redeem myself? May I have the honor of your last dance, Lady Vedanya?"

"I should like that very much, Sire."

The lights dipped to summon people to the next set. "This one is lady's choice, isn't it?" said Yuuri. "May I escort you to the stag line?"

Vedanya asked Brendan Lord Gratz' brother in law Hjalmar, the largest man on the stag line. With the Maou handing her to him, he could hardly refuse.

-oOo-

When the time finally came for his dance with Kieran, Yuuri was feeling a lot more comfortable about dancing with the other girls. Setting things right with Vedanya, and making a connection with her, seemed to crack a film of ice that had coated him since his heart hardened against Wolfram. His smiles were genuine, as was his interest in others. He laughed at himself easily. The girls were reluctant to let him go, and he looked forward to seeing them again sometime. Well not _seeing_ them again, in any amorous sense, but at least chatting with them again.

Kieran… was a different story. He was grateful for the gloves he wore, for he felt like his palms and neck were sweating. _Well. You wanted a true test, of whether you'd like a girl better than Wolfram. She's…_ It was no trouble at all to picture unwrapping _her_ from a pink nightgown in bed. _Sweet Shinou…_. He gulped. _It's just a dance. She's in the market for a Lord Donaghie. There will be a dance, and nothing more._

_Let the memory of this dance last a lifetime…_ Sweat dripped down his spine.

"Sire," Kieran said, stepping up to him with a curtsey.

Yuuri gulped. Stared. Blinked. Belatedly bowed. Managed a smile, and took her hand. Looked away realizing he was blushing crimson. "Ah, I'm pleased to meet you, Lady von Donaghie. I'm, aha! not the most gifted dancer, I'm afraid."

Kieran quirked an eyebrow, and intimately familiar green eyes flashed demonic amusement. "Would you prefer I lead?"

Yuuri chuckled. "Ah, no, I refuse to be_ that_ much of a wimp, thank you. I hope you're enjoying your stay with us? Greta tells me you two and Efram have been having fun together."

"Yes, thank you! Greta's been a lovely hostess. She's told me so much about you. It must be difficult to juggle being a king with parenting all those children."

"Ah," Yuuri felt a flush coming on again, "others really do the juggling. I just… play with them. They're… a lot of fun." _I've got to get the conversation to stick on her side, or I'll be crimson the whole dance…_ "So… are you finding any interesting prospects for your… future husband?" _Wait, that's just as embarrassing…_

"I have four on my list to meet with so far," allowed Kieran. "I heard about your date the other night at the – Diabolical Newt, was it? That sounds so fabulous! We have nothing like that in dreary Donagal. I should like to go to a place like that before I go home." Kieran studied him, amused. _No, Aldrich extends the invitations._ "Sire… who would you recommend I marry?"

"Aha! I… would defer to Lord Aldrich's counsel, Lady Kieran," replied Yuuri.

That was a new answer – he recommended not a man to marry, but a man whose advice he valued. She supposed that made sense, for a king – and probably for a domain ruler as well. Kieran prompted, "I've heard good things about Lord Wolfram, and Squire Sylvain von Tarkenburg."

Yuuri flushed harder. "I could not recommend anyone more highly than my political advisor Lord Wolfram," he breathed. "Ah, Sylvain… I've only met socially. I like him, though."

"And yourself, Yuuri Maou? Would you recommend yourself?"

"Aha! Perhaps I'd say – I seek to improve myself, Lady Kieran, as both husband and king," replied Yuuri, grateful that the music had stopped and his embarrassment was about to end, and simultaneously wishing he could hold this beautiful woman in his arms for hours more. _She's… not just beautiful. She's enchanting._

_He's really adorable,_ thought Kieran. _The king of peace, with outrageous majutsu powers, whom they call the greatest Maou in generations, perhaps ever. And the most wonderfully loving, considerate father I saw from Greta's closet. Yet, he's truly, astonishingly modest and kind. And – unless I very much miss my guess – he finds me very attractive as well._

"Thank you very much for this dance, Sire," she said, curtseying deeply. "I hope to speak with you again."

Yuuri bowed just as deep, regardless of how many times Günter tried to teach him not to. "I would like that. Lady Kieran." He met her eyes, and decided he did not care how deeply he blushed. For she blushed, too. And they both smiled very warmly indeed.

Yuuri had to give up on his next dance, and invited the girl out for air on a balcony. This wasn't entirely rude – people did get overheated. He glowed at her, and she believed she was listening to him, but all he could think of was Kieran.

_Or, _he thought with a sudden pang like a dagger thrust, _is she more interested in Wolfram? For if Wolfram is interested in her… _

"Sire?" the girl – he had no idea what her name was, though he'd already re-checked the card three times – looked up at him solicitously. "You _are_ overheated, Sire – I shall fetch you some water at once." And she scurried off to do that.

_What do I want? I … both of them. If instead… they got each other… I should never forgive myself for having lost either of them. What do I do now?_

_Calm down. Concentrate on the girl you're with until this is over. Concentrate on your daughter until you bid her good-night. And then… only then… then you can think about this. For now… But I can't!_

_No. What you _can't_ do is dance with Vedanya von Trondheim _again_, while thinking about Wolfram and Kieran! She'd be perfectly justified for breaking you in two, and given her brawn, she could do it, easily._

That thought made him laugh at himself, which allowed him to pull himself together. He never did manage to thank whoever-it-was who ran off for water, but he did place his attention on each of his other dance partners for the rest of the night. During the last dance, he was delighted to hear from a modestly pleased Vedanya, that Hjalmar, the man Yuuri had handed her off to on the stag line, was requesting another meeting through her brother. Lord Gratz' brother-in-law Hjalmar Stovemuessen was heir to a vast mountain ranch not far from the Trondheim Pass. He was Gratz's rough equivalent to a Bielenfeld plantation squire's heir – a noble one notch below Lord. He warmly wished them both the best of luck.

He'd mastered the knack now of putting all the other dancers out of mind. He'd far rather focus on Vedanya's good news, anyway, than the pangs of watching Efram take his dance with Greta, and Kieran take his dance with Wolfram.

-oOo-

Aldrich and Kieran closed the ball, at the top of the stairs, just as they began it. They led the audience in applauding the band, the Maou for letting them use his castle, the protocol staff for the dance card management, the army of servants. The ballroom would remain open and refreshments served until everyone left, or dawn, whichever came first. Then Günter led a thundering round of applause for their hosts Aldrich and Kieran, and the ball was over.

"Kieran, thank you for playing coy until the ball," said Aldrich. "But now, you've free run of the castle. And I'll touch base with you late tomorrow morning about scheduling one-on-one meetings."

"But I already know –"

He interrupted her with a finger on her lips. "I'm sure you do. But if you're too keyed up to sleep yet, go ahead and socialize. I need to do other things in the meantime. Kieran, I hope you enjoyed your ball."

Kieran beamed. "Yes. Thank you, oh, thank you, Aldrich!" And she flung her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.

He laughed, and bowed, and set off to kiss his drooping son good-night, and distribute princely sums in tips, before he could join Manfred in bed.

-oOo-

Relieved early of his last dance partner, Wolfram snuck over to the musicians during Aldrich's speech. They readily agreed to send a small string quartet to meet him down in the flower garden.

He snagged Efram and Greta on the way to catch Yuuri, still chatting with Vedanya and her brother and a star-struck Hjalmar.

"Sire, I hope you don't mind, but I've taken the liberty of arranging a… _second _ last dance," said Wolfram, beaming. "This way."

So Yuuri got to dance with Greta after all. And it was no effort whatsoever to put his full and undivided attention on the beautiful little girl who grew more beautiful all the time, but was no longer a little girl at all.

When they were done, she curtseyed deeply, and he bowed even deeper. Greta said, "Thank you so much, Yuuri! And Chichiue Wolfram, for giving me my dance with my Wimpue. Do you… forgive me, Wolfram? For getting a dress to wear to the ball?" She looked up at him with those huge liquid brown eyes, and he drowned as usual.

"Anything. Anything for you, Greta. And you do look absolutely beautiful." He hugged her warmly, if no longer so closely as he did when she was still a girl.

"Then… can Efram and I go to the after-party?" she grinned bravely. Efram put his head on her shoulder and grinned a maximum pixie smile to go with hers.

Wolfram laughed. "_Efram's_ father is here –"

"Chichiue said it was up to you because I could do it if Greta could, but not if she couldn't. So – can we?" Efram added bishounen halo to his maximum pixie grin.

"Go," said Yuuri. They ran before Wolfram could disagree.

Wolfram folded his arms and glared at him. "Yuuri, it's well past midnight –"

Yuuri put a finger to Wolfram's lips and turned to the musicians. "Could you maybe, possibly, play a _third_ last dance? Because… I never got to dance with Wolfram." He looked Wolfram in the eye sideways, with a soft smile.

Wolfram blushed and nodded.

And that was the best dance of all. They didn't say much. They tended to blush and look away each time they caught each other's eye. They'd been engaged for years, but they'd been sleeping apart, under stress, wondering whether they'd ever sleep together again, for days. They'd danced over twenty-five dances each that night, each with a girl in his arms. But none had this kind of heat. Familiar skin and curves seemed to burn through fabric, to reach for familiar hands and mated skin that had been apart too long.

They fell apart shyly as the song ended, and thanked the musicians, and sent them back to Günter to collect their pay for another set. Yuuri turned to Wolfram again, but Wolfram gestured _'Stop'_ with one hand, the other pointing to the ballroom balconies above them. _We have an audience, love._ Greta and Efram enthusiastically led the applause, and Wolfram and Yuuri waved and bowed. Wolfram folded his hands behind his back and wandered off toward the garden doors.

Yuuri followed, wanting to take Wolfram's hand, and yet fairly sure Wolfram's body language was disinviting that. When Wolfram reached the wall, he leaned against it sideways, facing Yuuri, his arms now crossed in front of himself, loosely.

"Yuuri…" he said, in the husky bedroom voice Yuuri knew so well, so dearly. "I'd like to ask… if you're willing… would you be willing… to talk to Aldrich with me? As a marriage… well, engagement… counselor? I… for my sake and the children's sake… and yours… I'd very much like for us to do that. I think… that would be a good next step. Would you be willing to do that? For us?"

Yuuri was stunned._ I'd intended to take you in my arms and kiss you. Call this whole crazy engagement hiatus off. Yeah, Kieran was intoxicating, but you, Wolfram… My body wants its own. You. And this ball… was an utter disaster, except that you made it right. You told me how to fix what I was doing wrong. No one else knows how to do that for me. But you do. I don't belong here without you, love. The real problem with that ball, from beginning to end, was that I should never have been there without you at my side. You're my partner – body, heart, and mind, in the challenges of home and family, or politics and global threat._

_But now you're not sure? I've been crueler than I thought… But a marriage counselor? Talk to your liege lord and cousin about our most intimate problems? That… _

_That **what**, idiot? **Wimp?** That's too scary? You'd be willing to die for Wolfram, go to the ends of the earth for him, but not sit with him and talk to Aldrich? Are you really that afraid of Aldrich? He's the only von Bielenfeld who _isn't_ scary!_

Yuuri laughed softly at himself. He turned his back onto the castle wall, and leaned his head to look up at the stars. He said wistfully, "Yeah. OK. If that's what you think we need to do next, we can do that."

"Thank you," Wolfram breathed. He gave Yuuri an awkward kiss on the cheek, turned his eyes down, turned away, then stopped. Without looking back, he said softly, "Yuuri… try to trust me a little until then. I know I haven't been trustworthy, emotionally, so much but… all is not as it seems. We'll meet with Aldrich soon. OK?" At the last, he looked back at Yuuri in appeal.

Yuuri frowned a question, but it went unanswered. "OK. I trust you," he said.

And Wolfram went into the castle, to his separate cold bed.

Yuuri pondered the cold and distant early morning stars for a while.

_I thought I was off the hook. _

_I thought I could simply kiss Wolfram, sweep him off to bed, and this whole thing would be over. No need to look at my attraction to Kieran. No need to look at my terror of Kieran taking Wolfram away from me._

_This whole thing was a very, very bad idea! Dammit, I didn't want to look! I still don't want to look! I want to pretend we never started this crazy thing, that none of it ever happened! I love him. We were fine. Why did we have to look…_

_Wimp. _

_I'm not a wimp. Well, I am a wimp. But that's not the problem here. I was happy with him. He was happy with me!_

_But you got engaged by accident when you were 15. He was 80-something, but by his lights, he wasn't ready to consider marriage either._

_I could lose everything. Who am I, here, without him?_

_That's pathetic, Shibuya Yuuri. Shall we go scratch on Wolfram's door? Please take me back because I'm too scared to face your world without you?_

_Well… if it's true…_

_It isn't true. It would hurt, hurt bad. But with Conrad and Gwendal and Günter and Greta and the others at your side – could you really not face the world without Wolfram? If he died tomorrow, would you abandon Shin Makoku, Greta, Bertram? Your allies and friends and vassals?_

_But I didn't want to do this! I didn't want to find out! If something like that happens, Shinou forbid, if and when, then I will face it. There is no **need** to face my attraction for a girl! I wasn't attracted to one before this whole stupid thing started!_

_Back up. Why did this whole stupid thing start? Wolfram said he knew why, but… He never told me._

He turned and lay his face against the cold greenish smelling stone of his castle. _Maybe when we meet with Aldrich… we could start from that. Whatever that is. In the meantime… I should go to sleep. Because I'm getting nowhere. Nowhere at all._

After he put on his pajamas, he toyed with Bertram and Frieda's hair a long time until his brain shut down. And he went to bed, exhausted.

-oOo-

Kieran added only three names to her list of people to interview. A total of six wasn't bad. Except that fully half of them were unacceptable.

Aldrich leaned back, gazing at Kieran with pursed lips, for a full minute, before he spoke. "Kieran… there is no way, whatsoever, for you to marry Erick von Trondheim. You are both heirs to domains, and neither of you are going to give your domain up. Your father has forbidden you to marry _anyone_ from Trondheim. And on a purely physical basis, excuse me, but – a baby of his will weigh upwards of 15 pounds. You're _too small_ for him. Why is he on this list?"

"I like him," said Kieran, not meeting Aldrich's eye.

"I like him, too. But he's not going to marry me, either. Kieran… talk to me."

"I want to talk to him privately, heir to heir, about undoing the feud between our fathers."

"Alright. I'll set up a meeting. But it won't be private. Lord Franklin and I know far more about this than either of you." She looked up to argue, but he replied firmly, "That's _final_, Kieran. _Next._ I want to rule out the Maou and Lord Wolfram as well. Kieran, neither of these men have _asked_ for your hand in marriage."

She looked away. "Invite them anyway. Maybe they'll come."

Aldrich tapped his finger on the table, and then relented. "Alright. I'll ask them. But Kieran, the fact remains. There are only three men on your list who've offered – no, who are _considering_ marrying you. I'd like you to think long and hard about whether there are any other men you'd be willing to give a chance."

_And you'd better make yourself damned pleasant to those three, Kieran. Pretty soon my gloves are going to have to come off, pretty chit._

-oOo-

_There are a couple new pictures (unfinished) on the website – Kieran with Wolfram, and A Fully Justified Kick._

_Poll: who is your favorite OC in these stories? Least favorite?_

_Please review?_


	9. An Ego of the Appropriate Size

**Kyou Kara Maou – Yuuri's Hot Date**

Summary: Wolfram challenges Yuuri to have a date with a girl. Loosely part of my Epilogue story arc.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to _Kyou Kara Maou_ of course.

**Chapter 9 – An Ego of the Appropriate Size**

"You could simply refuse to meet with her, Sire," suggested Aldrich. "I know that you're not in the market for a wife." He'd caught Yuuri in his office for a private talk between sessions of the Aristocrat's Summit.

Yuuri's eye was caught by the family portrait on his desk – Wolfram, Efram, and newborn Bertram to the left, himself with Frieda and Greta on the right. He swallowed. "Lord Aldrich… has Wolfram spoken to you yet? About… ah, marriage counseling? For the two of us?"

"A couple days ago," said Aldrich. "I haven't spoken to him yet today. Have you two agreed to meet with me about your issues?"

"Yes. Please," said Yuuri. "I'd be very grateful for that." He touched the portrait. "Is Kieran… inviting Wolfram to meet with her privately as well?"

"Yes," said Aldrich reluctantly.

"Would he forgive me if I accepted?" whispered Yuuri. "Aldrich… I really don't know what to do."

"Sire… if you're asking advice…"

"Please call me Yuuri, Aldrich. And yes, I need advice badly."

"OK, Yuuri. You say you don't know what to do. That suggests you want to do two things you consider… irreconcilable. If I understand the history correctly… _Wolfram_ decided that you should _'try out'_ a woman. He felt you still harbored doubts. You love him, but you expected to grow up and marry a woman, and have kids of your own body. I don't know how much that part has to do with it, but we're all three bisexual and love kids, so I'll hazard a guess – it matters."

"Yes. But I love my kids!"

"Of course. The thing is, it seems to me that, while under the misimpression that Wolfram had lost his mind and hit the baths – and Manfred and I are with you, by the way – that would be sheer self-destruction for Wolfram, given his past. Anyway, at that time, you came up with your own decision – that for once and for all, you wanted to _find out_ what it would be like to be with a woman."

"Yes. But not… sex… ah, necessarily."

"No. Though if you could have just gone to a brothel, you'd be done with this by now. So. What did you _'find out'_ so far?"

"I'm attracted to Kieran," Yuuri whispered. "And Wolfram."

"She's not going to go away, Yuuri," Aldrich said softly. "She and her chosen husband will be your vassals for the rest of your reign. So. Can you put this to rest yet? Or… do you want to go to The Diabolical Newt with her tomorrow night?"

"The Diabolical Newt? Again?" Yuuri laughed.

Aldrich shrugged. "She was intrigued. She'd like to go, and you have a costume. Cecilie's sure to have something she could borrow."

_I wanted to bring Wolfram and Efram and Greta,_ Yuuri thought. _I… would love to go with Kieran. And find out who she really is. I'm not sure… I know that. Maybe if I really knew her, this wouldn't be so confusing._

"Do you think Wolfram would forgive me if go? Or be… really hurt?"

"Well," said Aldrich, studying a fingernail, "Wolfram has two parents and myself telling him to give you a little space. Last night, it looked to me like he was managing it. Now… painful as it is for him… he really doesn't want this hanging over the two of you. If you're not done with your experiment yet, then, finish up. Put the question to rest for once and for all, if you can. Then, you can really give yourself to him, whole-heartedly. Isn't that what really started this? That Wolfram's never trusted that you were with him whole-heartedly?"

"He'd… be right," said Yuuri sadly. "I thought… after Mizrat… that it was decided. I'd chosen him, forever. I… had doubts now and then… but I refused to look at them. And… I'm not sure that was wrong… I truly believe that I could have left this box of questions unopened."

Aldrich shrugged. "Water under the bridge. The box is open now. So do what it takes to close it."

Yuuri nodded slowly. "Alright. Tomorrow night it is, at the Diabolical Newt. We should leave here around 8:30."

-oOo-

Kieran was unsurprised that Sylvain von Tarkenburg was scheduled for her first interview. Of course Aldrich would use his position as marriage broker, to give his lowly Squires a boost, when most contenders for her hand were Lords. And a Squire wasn't a bad idea, really. A Lord might feel… overly entitled to rule over her. Whereas a Squire might more readily accept her as the true ruler of Donaghie.

She explained this to him.

Sylvain listened, with a searching gaze. There was a long pause.

"Lady Kieran," he began eventually.

"Oh, Sylvain, you can call me Kieran!"

"Lady Kieran, I would prefer to be addressed as Squire Sylvain. Or Squire von Tarkenburg. For I question whether we will become friends."

"_What!"_

"Excuse me, Lady Kieran, but I heard you out. Now it's my turn. When I asked what you envisioned for Donaghie, I was asking about _Donaghie_, not you. The domain that your_ husband_ will rule. You seem… quite sure that _you_ are entitled to rule, without considering why anyone would follow your lead. You ask whether _I_ would follow meekly. The answer to that is _'No'_, frankly. You seem to be… remarkably under-informed about your situation. And… entirely too young to marry. I wish you the best of luck, Lady Kieran, when you are ready to marry. Though, in all honesty, my sympathies lie more with the good people of Donaghie. Good day."

"Sylvain! Ah, Squire von Tarkenburg! Wait, please!"

"No." And Sylvain shut the door gently behind himself.

_Oh! How dare he! And to think that I **liked** him best! Of course I care about the people of Donaghie, that just wasn't the subject! And what makes him think that I should be obedient to **him!** It's **my** domain. I'd be raising him to the highest peerage in the land!_

She flounced to her bed, furious. _Remarkably under-informed about my situation. _She tried to stay furious, because it felt better than being hurt. _But… what did he mean by that? _

-oOo-

Squire Toby von Guire was rather incredulous to find himself meeting with Kieran. He'd desperately wanted to hear about Sylvain's experience first, but the Tark had simply dropped a note off to Lord Bielenfeld in the middle of session, so Toby couldn't really run after him. Lord Bielenfeld didn't look very pleased by the note, either.

Young Toby had a tendency to babble when he was nervous. "So, wow. I, uh, never expected our proposal to be entertained so seriously, thank you! Well, like we said, Guire doesn't have nearly the resources of the Tark, but –"

"The Tark?" Kieran asked.

"The von Tarkenburgs, sorry. Anyway, um, so we'd have to be careful with finances. The wedding would be a small family affair, but your dress last night was really nice, so you could wear that. And at least Lord Bielenfeld bought you an awesome marriage ball, so it's not like you're missing out altogether –"

"The domain of _Bielenfeld_ paid for my marriage ball?" Kieran whitened. This time, she wasn't making the same mistake she did with Sylvain. This time, she was listening. "Surely my father paid for it?"

"Oh, no! Not the _domain_! Oh, the Tark'd tell Aldrich to stick it in his ear, and probably talk with Manfred about deposing him!" Toby laughed at the idea. "Not that it would happen. The squires approve expenditures from the domain treasury. No, Lord Aldrich paid for your ball himself, and –"

"Why would he do that?" asked Kieran, aghast.

"Ah, well, I don't know, exactly. He agreed to be your marriage broker before you were born, and… this is how he likes to do it, I guess. And since Donaghie's bankrupt –"

_"Bankrupt?!"_ squeaked Kieran. She heard the crack in her voice, and bit her lip. "Did you say… bankrupt?"

Toby's voice dried up completely. "Um."

He was saved by a knock at the door, and Aldrich requesting leave to enter. "Ah, Squire von Guire, I'm very sorry to interrupt, but… could I speak to Lady Kieran? We can schedule you another meeting."

"Ah, yeah… if she wants. Good day, Lady Kieran." Toby bolted.

Kieran sank slowly to her chair, and swallowed hard. "That was… enlightening," she said faintly. "Is it true, Lord Bielenfeld? That my family is bankrupt, and you paid for that… sumptuous!... ball? Out of your _own_ pocket?"

"Close enough," agreed Aldrich. "Kieran, please call me Aldrich. Marriage brokering is a … personal matter."

"Please, Aldrich. But what does _'close enough'_ mean? I think… I should start knowing… more exactly."

"While I applaud the sentiment, Kieran… my finances aren't your concern." Manfred paid for the ball. Aldrich's gift was brokering the marriage. "Unfortunately, your father is a true Donaghie, and he doesn't discuss money with women, either. But yes, you're bankrupt. And… not just your family. Your domain's treasury is also bankrupt."

_That stunning dress. The jewels. The music, the servants, the refreshments until dawn… Castle Donagal, falling into disrepair. Stupid! How could I have been so stupid! _

"Kieran… don't worry about the ball," said Aldrich gently. "But the Donaghie finances… we need to discuss. I had no idea before I met you last month that you'd been kept so completely in the dark. Your father promised me he'd explain your situation to you himself before you came here. But, I guess he didn't do it."

"What is my situation?" she whispered.

"Well, whomever you marry becomes Lord Donaghie. I've been clear with you about that all along. But… Sylvain tells me… Well, that was a shame. The von Tarkenburgs made by far the best offer. But Sylvain is a very loving man. He wants a wife and children, a happy family life. And he has no reason whatsoever to settle for less. I can't tell you the details, of course, but… he has some very interesting offers before him. I'm not optimistic you'll get a second chance with Sylvain. Kieran… what did say to him?"

"I…" she swallowed, "I didn't know any of this. I… was a complete and utter ass."

"Could you be a little more specific?" asked Aldrich, with a wry grin.

"I told him _I_ wanted to rule Donaghie, that it was _my_ domain. I basically asked him whether he'd agree to those conditions. I was… pretty imperious about it."

Aldrich nodded. "Well, that would explain Sylvain's reaction. Kieran, there's no way a woman will rule Donaghie. The Aristocrats would reject you, because so would your subjects. If you tried to undercut your husband, you'd be serving your ego at the expense of Donaghie. You'd just be a nuisance to everyone, and a complete misery to your husband."

"No one will let me rule my domain," she said. "I've been an idiot."

"Yes, well, adolescents often are. That was Sylvain's basic conclusion. That you weren't mature enough to consider marriage, and that I should wrest control of your education from your father. I haven't spoken to Sylvain yet, though. I wanted to see whether the situation was beyond repair on your end first."

"What was their offer?" whispered Kieran.

"Sylvain to take over the domain _now_, and marry you when you were old enough. A gala wedding. Cash infusions – more than doubling the size of your annual treasury for the first twenty years, so Sylvain can rebuild Donaghie's economy. Excellent plans for how he'd go about it."

"Squire. I thought a squire was… minor."

"There are very few families, Lord or otherwise, who have the private wealth of the Tark. And their so-called _'plantation'_ isn't far behind Donaghie in population or complexity. Sylvain was trained to inherit both eventually. No, Squire may be a modest title, but the von Tarkenburgs are a major power in Shin Makoku."

"Why didn't you tell me? The details of the offers?"

"Well, that's not really your end of this business. You didn't even know the state of Donaghie's treasury, after all. Approving the new Lord will go before the Eleven eventually. Your end of this was to select a husband. Getting you a selection of people who could take on Donaghie and pass the Eleven, was my end."

"I thought I was shopping amongst gold-diggers for the least objectionable gold-digger."

"Well, now you know otherwise. And… if you don't mind, I'm not going to reschedule you with Toby. I suspect you chose young Toby as someone you would find easier to… dominate. Not because you were smitten. Am I wrong?"

"You're not wrong. Oh, Aldrich – I need to apologize to Sylvain immediately!"

"Agreed," Aldrich sighed. "But – take a pen and paper, write it out, and think it through. When I like your apology, then_ I_ will bring it to Sylvain. By the way – now that you understand your job a little better in all this – do you like Sylvain?"

Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I like him very much. I –"

"Well, be sure to tell him that in your apology. Try to be specific, so he knows what you mean by it. And – I need to get back to the Eleven. I'll drop back in about an hour to get the letter from you, then talk to Sylvain. Sorry to rush you, but… I'm inviting Sylvain to tonight's meeting with the von Trondheims. I'd like to clear the air first if we can."

"But – how can I face him? I've been such a –"

"Kieran, I think you've done your best all along. Once you've apologized for exactly and only what you've done wrong, no minimizing or catastrophizing, he'll accept your apology. And then you move on. He may marry someone else – that's his choice. Just get right with yourself, not too big, not too small. Just – right with yourself. And it'll be fine. I'll be back soon."

-oOo-

Sylvain not only accepted Kieran's apology, but said he was impressed by it. And returned her an apology of his own. He had requested Aldrich _not_ tell her the financial end of the Tark offer before they met, because he wanted the opportunity to meet as man and woman first. And he'd gotten his feelings hurt. Also, he realized on reflection that he already knew why she knew so little. She'd told him, hadn't she? Instead of getting a proper education, living with other ladies, visiting with her fellow aristocracy, she'd been home, caring for her sick father herself. He'd treated her like a spoiled pampered princess and a fool, and it was clear to him that she was neither. She was a diligent and dutiful daughter, who'd simply been kept in the dark.

"Apology accepted gratefully, Sylvain," she said. "And I am trying to learn. But my goal in learning won't be to undercut the man who rules Donaghie, but… to understand better how I can serve my people. I… had high hopes for that tonight. I don't know as much as I thought, but… I know we need to find a way to reopen the mines near Pitchblende – safely this time. I hope you'll come, too? And Sylvain – I do want to learn. I'd be grateful if you could take the time to teach me."

He smiled. "I'd like that very much, Kieran."

That night Kieran learned the history of how Aldrich became her marriage broker. He and Franklin led the Trondheim expedition to identify dangerous pitchblende veins and shut down all contaminated mines. Far superior in earth lore to the rest of the Mazoku, the Tronds were dismayed by Donaghie minecraft. In the end, they sealed a full three quarters of the mines – including the most lucrative – as well as some of the scenic cave systems.

And Dougal von Donaghie snubbed them. He refused to meet with Franklin to finance reasonable terms and find ways to open safer mines with Trond expertise. He emptied the gold from Donaghie's treasury, already nearly bare, and dumped it onto the lawn, and then even took away the wagons. The Tronds had to go buy their own to cart the heavy load back to Trondheim.

Trondheim didn't offer help again.

Aldrich von Trondheim von Bielenfeld would have happily written Dougal off as well. But under orders from his father, he requested the right to broker the unborn heir's marriage, in payment for his role in closing the mines. Or at least, that's what he told Kieran.

Sylvain assured the group that the Tark wanted to invest in new mines, whether or not Sylvain's suit flourished with Kieran. Aldrich said he could ensure that the Maou and Eleven forbade Lord Donaghie to interfere with the enterprise – the backers would own a fair share of the mines to pay back their investment.

And Kieran hesitantly offered to hire a nurse for her father and go down to Pitchblende herself to host any mining expedition from Trondheim, to ensure their welcome. "Or does that… sound foolish?"

They smiled at her. Sylvain said, "It sounds like a plan. Let's go forward with it."

After the meeting broke up, Sylvain and Kieran stayed up well past midnight, talking. And Sylvain found that she cared for the land of Donaghie deeply. She might not know its finances, but she knew and loved its people well. And she was… truly beautiful. Breathtakingly so. She was brave and brash, smart and humble, and willing to do whatever it took to serve her people. She was… noble.

She in turn found that once she got her ego cut down to size… No, that wasn't quite right. She'd been afraid, and hiding in bravado. But she'd found that being vulnerable with Sylvain was quite safe. In fact… it felt very comforting indeed.

"Sylvain… I should like very much for you to take over as Lord Donaghie. I probably am too young to marry yet. But if you should… find that you don't want to marry me, later… would you still rule Donaghie well, and help me find someone else to marry, so that I can stay in Donaghie and help anyway? Though… I really would like to give Chichiue a grandchild, so that he can let go in peace."

Sylvain cocked an eyebrow. He'd mentioned his thoughts on that subject exactly once – to Wolfram and a couple babies. _Wolfram would not have repeated that._

"Ah," said Kieran, blushing, "I… was hiding in Greta's closet adjoining the nursery, and overheard. I'm sorry! But… I think I fell in love with you then, Sylvain, hearing that. That you really understood, about my father and me." She bit her lip.

Sylvain smiled. "I'm willing when you're willing, Kieran. I have the blessing of my family, my liege lord, and your marriage broker. Will you marry me? Someday."

Kieran breathed, "Yes!" And he kissed her for the first time – her first kiss ever. It felt – beyond perfect. They smiled, and gazed tenderly into each other's eyes.

And Kieran said, "Oh, _rats!_"

Sylvain laughed out loud. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, Sylvain – you're going to think I'm an _idiot!_ I had a whole plan for tomorrow to repay Greta's kindness… Can you keep a secret?"

_Yes,_ he reflected, _it _is_ a silly adolescent girls' plan_. But he not only agreed to keep her secret, but to help the girls as well.

_You don't have to grow up too fast for me, Kieran. You've already lost too much of your youth, alone with a sick old man. Ah, but you're with the Tark now – all fify-odd of us, and I do mean odd! Soon enough, you'll look back with nostalgia on the days when you ever found time alone!_

-oOo-

The next morning, Kieran all but flew down to the stables for her picnic date with Wolfram. There he was, in blue and gold riding uniform, blond hair shining in the sun. She pulled up to him out of breath, laughing, and he turned to her.

"Lady Kieran," he said.

The resemblance was so strong that it took her a moment to register that this was not Wolfram. "Lord… Manfred, isn't it?"

"Yes. I'm Wolfram's father. I hope you don't mind – Wolfram asked me to ride out with you. He'll meet us at the picnic site."

Along the way, Manfred told her the story, of how she came to be, and why she could never marry Wolfram von Bielenfeld. Not for a king's ransom would Kieran have interrupted this story, though she'd never intended to marry Wolfram. She wanted to meet him in private to ask him if it was possible, that he was her brother. And she had her answer.

She shook her head sadly. "What a fool I've been, Lord Manfred. I thought I should rule Donaghie in my own right. I'm not even really a von Donaghie."

Manfred said firmly, "That isn't true. You_ are_ a von Donaghie. I'm your biological father, yes, but Dougal is your _true_ father, the man who raised you. And you are his true daughter. Before the law, as well as in your hearts. Please never think otherwise. Kieran… I lay no claim on you. Except… please know that I do care. If ever you need help, or if you want another father after Dougal passes… I'm here for you. But, you will always be Kieran von _Donaghie_, Donaghie's rightful heir. And though Dougal never knew… Yes, this is private, but never dishonorable."

"You've never felt shame for me, Lord Manfred?" Calling him Chichiue… was unthinkable.

"Never. Some pain over the years, I'll admit. Regret that I could not claim you proudly, that I needed to keep your secret from your brothers when they were young. But shame – never. You were the child of your parents' love, the dearest wish of their hearts. I… helped. _And,_ if you don't need any more time… your very private half-brothers await us at a picnic site over the rise."

She nodded, and they broke into a canter to join Wolfram, Efram, and Bertram for their first and last picnic, as brothers and sister.

"I gotta confess," said Efram, "I suspected you were my sister when I told you to shave off your mustache." He grinned his pixie smile and she tackled him, laughing.

When she picked Bertram up and kissed him, he sucked a finger, looked back at Wolfram, looked back at her, proclaimed, "_Not_ Chewy!" and poked her in the breast, hard. She laughed at him, too, and hugged him tight.

"It really is like looking in a mirror," murmured Wolfram, gazing into her eyes. "I guess they were right. I really would have looked better as a girl." He smiled to show he was only joking.

"That's why," said Manfred. "Kieran's mother met you, Wolfram, in my clinic. You were too young to remember. The way Friedrich put it, was that Danielle fell in love with a dream, a child of hers who looked just like you."

"Well," said Kieran, "she certainly got her wish! But, _I _think we look beautiful as a boy, too."

"_I_ think _we_ look better," Efram confided to Bertram. Their mothers were sisters. "The green in our golden curls showcases our beautiful green eyes, don't you think." He hammed it up.

"_They_ look more like _me_," opined Manfred. "And _I_ look best of all. Right?"

Wolfram tossed some grass on him. "We all look _pretty good._ Let's eat!"

-oOo-

Wolfram walked some ways away, leaving Bertram playing between Manfred and Efram on the picnic blanket. Kieran followed him.

"You remind me of myself so much, Kieran," he said softly, looking off at the hills. "How I used to be, way back when, when Yuuri and I fell in love. But I've… changed. I hear you have a date with him tonight. Are you… serious? About him?"

"No. Why would you let him date me?"

"To find out. If after all this time… he still wishes I were a girl. And there you are," he said, with a quick sad smile at her. "A girl Wolfram."

Kieran was horrified. "_I_ started this between you? Wolfram… if you knew I was your sister… why didn't you just tell him?"

"I still want him to make up his own mind. And… Kieran, I've never been free to be a good big brother to you. Anything I can do…"

She harrumphed at that. "Wolfram, this goes _way_ beyond any favor you should do for your kid sister." _Though not beyond a favor a kid sister could do for you, I hope._

He grinned wryly. "Well… but I owe you a lot of back years of brothering. No, it's mostly about him and me. I'm… boring. When we fell in love, there was all this cosmic earth-shattering danger, you know? Adventures and excitement and daring-do. And now… I'm a… mommy, mostly. And bore him with political briefings. I'm not the brash spoiled princeling he first slapped."

"Are you bored with him?"

"No," he murmured eventually. "The sun rises and sets in his eyes, for me."

Kieran took his arm protectively. "Then let's get him back for you. Greta and I will help."

-oOo-

_Bananam00n's picture of Kieran and Wolfram at the ball is all colored now on the illustrations page – oh, does she do pretty work! Sparkling diamonds, gleaming quicksilver fabric, glinting gems and silver, even gold leaf and embossed buttons on Wolfram's suit – whoa! Stunning!_

_Well, so far not many votes on the OC favorite poll. Aldrich, Manfred, and Friedrich are tied for favorite, with Efram an also-ran. Kieran's got the only dislike vote. (Great timing, just when I had a Kieran-heavy chapter to write – LOL!)_

_Please review?_


	10. The Hot Date

**Kyou Kara Maou – Yuuri's Hot Date**

Summary: Wolfram challenges Yuuri to have a date with a girl. Loosely part of my Epilogue story arc.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to _Kyou Kara Maou_ of course.

**Chapter 10 – The Hot Date**

Trying to pay attention to his Lords' deliberations, knowing that Wolfram was out on a picnic with Kieran, made for an agonizing morning for Yuuri. The debate was spirited, and for his political insight alone, he would have desperately missed Wolfram. He tried to focus on that angle, but he couldn't.

_I could actually lose him. To her. Yes, Wolfram's great loves have been men. But he expected to marry a woman, just like I did, before he met me. And she is… gorgeous. Their children would be as beautiful as they are, they're so perfectly matched. _

_Or am I worried about losing her to him? _

_No. I don't know her. She is exciting, yes, a new world of unknown possibility. She is attractive, yes – a girl who looks… just like Wolfram. _

_It's true – I find Wolfram overwhelmingly attractive. We've been lovers so long now… of course I'm attracted to him. _Yuuri shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn't used to going this long without his beautiful Wolfram in his arms, and was all too painfully aware of how he missed him on a purely physical level. _Do I only find Kieran attractive because she looks like Wolfram?_

_Well, and acts just like Wolfram. _He grinned wryly at that thought. Her bright, spoiled, overly-entitled self-assurance at the ball reminded him a great deal of… He frowned. _She reminds me of Wolfram when I first met him…_

"Sire," Sylvain von Tarkenburg interrupted his thoughts. "My Lord Bielenfeld's compliments, and would you care to join the autonomists for lunch?"

That was Aldrich's coalition. Yuuri's norm would be to dine with his Chancellor Gwendal and the federalists – those who sought national solutions to challenges. Aldrich's camp preferred the Maou starved for cash and out of the domains' hair. They didn't normally invite him to join much of anything.

"Ah, certainly, thank you, Squire Sylvain," agreed Yuuri.

He was too distracted to notice that the autonomists were just as surprised as he was when he joined them. But then, the Maou was eccentric. No doubt he'd struck up a friendship with Aldrich's squire and ate where he pleased.

"So, I hear you meet privately with Lady Kieran tonight, Sire," said Sylvain, tossing a conversation opener into the sudden quiet.

"Ah, yes," said Yuuri. _Hm. Sylvain is the front-runner for Kieran's hand, I hear._

"So, what happens in that case?" von Krist asked, apparently of Brendan and Aldrich and Franklin, his autonomist partners. "If Kieran marries the Maou, surely she forfeits Donaghie. _Yuuri _can't rule Donaghie."

Aldrich shrugged. "The Tark made the best offer. We could just give it to them outright. Though… the argument for _Sylvain_ assumed a young girl to marry. Young and energetic is still best, but Sylvain's father is only about my age. What do you think, Sylvain? Would the Tark still back you? Or only as heir to your father?"

"Hm," answered Sylvain. The Tark didn't share its internal politics. "Of course, Wolfram would be available if Yuuri dumped him. Would the Biel back him? Or maybe Manfred?"

"Hm," Aldrich replied in kind.

"All just theories," opined Lord Krist. "If the silly chit would abandon her duty for a love affair, Donaghie's well shut of her. And really, I expect a whole new round of proposals. As Aldrich pointed out, young and unmarried aren't qualifications anymore. That's a whole new ballgame. Aldrich probably wouldn't be the arbiter, either."

"It's a shame we'd be stuck with an idiot as queen," commented Brendan.

"Better here than at Donagal," countered Franklin. "Donaghie's has all the mismanagement it can bear." The economic crisis in Donaghie was a core topic at this week's summit.

Yuuri was squirming with increasing discomfort throughout all this. "Ah, hang on! I'm just… visiting with Kieran for fun. It's nothing serious!"

They stared at him. He stared back. He dropped his gaze first. "Some of the Aristocrats marry for love," he hazarded.

"If they're not heirs," allowed Aldrich. "Brendan married for love before Adelbert forfeited Gratz – though of course Hilde was perfectly appropriate, in any case. The rest of us… had options."

"Love is a verb," commented Franklin. "One does one's duty, and behaves well or badly within it. But Aldrich, you're the _'professor of love'_." Aldrich rolled his eyes. "Marriage for love or duty – which is best in the long run?"

Aldrich shrugged. "What's _'best'_? My parents haven't seen each other in two centuries, and they're perfectly content with their marriage. Extreme example, of course. Marriage for duty is usually calmer. Marriage for love tends to be rocky, lots of drama and tears, more likely to founder, because the people change. The starting attraction has to mature along the way. But – they can be the happiest of all. When it works."

"The rough spots can be hell, though," said Brendan, still very much in love with Hilde after thirty-odd years of marriage.

Toby von Guire offered, "My father says, even if you marry for love, align to duty. That way you're still pulling together when the romance cools."

"Well said," agreed the others around the table.

Yuuri found himself nodding right along with them. _Hey, when did I become a convert? Though… it does make sense. And I know love can grow within duty. My love with Wolfram… he started from duty. I started from nothing, but grew to love him along the way, through duty. Kieran…_

It stood out plain as day from this angle. For him to abandon Wolfram and take up Kieran would be to betray his duty to Wolfram and his children, and incite her to betray her duty as heir of a domain. He would be honoring her with his love no more than he would have honored Deanna the seamstress. This wasn't foreign Shin Makoku values. This was shameful by his own Japanese standards.

_This is wrong. Dating Kieran, to 'find out' whether I'd prefer girls, is just plain wrong. Even if I did prefer girls, what would it matter? I will never marry a perfect person. If I couldn't love a man, that would be different. But I do love Wolfram. And it's not in spite of the fact he isn't perfect, either. His imperfections, his vulnerabilities, are often what draw us closest. I protect his weak spots, and he protects mine._

_But he's with Kieran right now._

"So, Sire, we heard about your trip last week to the Diabolical Newt," said Sylvain, switching topic. "What was your favorite costume?"

-oOo-

Sylvain and Greta gave up on the missing Kieran and Efram, and went shopping without them. Sylvain wasn't worried – the fact that Manfred and Bertram were also absent tended to confirm his unvoiced suspicions. He was confident that Wolfram wouldn't tempt Kieran away from him.

They rented costumes through Dame Esmelda easily enough. But Greta insisted that Kieran needed a present for Aldrich. Sylvain suggested that it wasn't from Kieran if they bought it, but allowed Greta to drag him shopping anyway. He enjoyed the way girls got excited about shopping. Shopping with guys was just an errand – locate item, exchange cash, head out for a beer. Girls seemed to approach it with a spirit of wide-eyed adventure. They were taking an ice cream break when Kieran and Efram finally caught up with them.

After another hour of the normally castle-bound girls squealing and caroming through shops, Efram finished a second ice cream and licked his fingers. The girls were admiring cufflinks, an item the one-handed Aldrich never used. "You don't really suppose Aldrich would wear any jewelry they picked out, do you?"

Sylvain grinned. "Aldrich's valet has flawless taste. He'd probably hide it."

"We should head back." The sun was getting low, and Efram was satisfied that his brother-in-law-to-be was a good sort. Not that it was really any of his business.

Sylvain nodded, and called, "Hey, girls ! I know what Aldrich would like. Bath toys. There was a shop a ways back. I bet he'd love a fizzy bath duck."

Efram hid his face laughing. This was a typical cheap Winterfair gift – a molded cake of baking soda and fragrant salts, that fizzed as it dissolved into the bath.

"A bath duck? For a man?" asked Greta.

"Oh, yes. Aldrich likes bath ducks." The boys watched in vast amusement as the girls picked out the cutest fizzy ducks.

-oOo-

"Ah, Sire," said Aldrich quickly, as the Aristocrats' Summit broke up for the evening. "Kieran asks that you meet at 8:00 in front of the castle. Sorry about the time change." He didn't wait for an answer, moving on to talk to Gwendal. From the bashful looks being exchanged between Toby von Guire and one of the Walde noble girls, Yuuri could easily guess the subject. Best not to interrupt – Aldrich and Gwendal didn't get along all that readily.

Yuuri sadly caught a light supper with the federalists, and dropped by to play with the toddlers for a few minutes, before Günter hurried him along to change for his date. He wanted desperately to talk to Wolfram, but he hadn't seen him or the big kids since morning.

_I should just call off this date. I want Wolfram!_

_No,_ he sighed. _She's probably already dressed. She's looking forward to this. I have no grounds for ruining the night for her, any more than I did for backing out with Deanna. And we had fun, in the end. _

_But next time I go to the Newt, it'll be with Wolfram!_

Günter and Morgif proved immune to his lack of enthusiasm. They were humming happily away already. Yuuri let their spirits carry him along a bit, though tonight he drew the line at lipstick. Günter helped himself to the makeup Wolfram had left in Yuuri's room, though that didn't happen to include blood red.

-oOo-

"Sire!" said Kieran, bowing deeply. "Oh, I'm so looking forward to this! Thank you for taking me!" He couldn't see her outfit – both they and Günter were swaddled in mantles to avoid walking around town looking like fools.

Yuuri blushed. "The pleasure is mine, Lady Kieran."

"Whoo-HOOO-oooh!" commented Morgif.

"What was that?" asked Kieran in alarm.

"Aha! Ah, my sword, ignore him. Can it, Morgif. So, shall we?" Kieran latched onto his elbow, which embarrassed him and made it hard to walk, between the strange pace, Morgif bouncing, and the codpiece shifting. He supposed he shouldn't ask, but… it was driving him crazy. "So, aha! You had a picnic lunch with Wolfram today, didn't you? How did that go?"

"Nice," she said, noncommittally.

He sighed. "When did you get back?"

"Around 3:00."

After a few more stillborn conversational gambits, Yuuri gave up and walked companionably, trying to shift the codpiece without touching himself inappropriately with a girl on his arm. Morgif and Günter hummed happily.

They arrived at the Diabolical Newt a little early for a nightclub – not many patrons were there yet. Kieran drew off her mantle to reveal – Deanna's mermaid costume.

"Ah, that's…" Yuuri didn't bother to complete the statement.

"Isn't it nice?" Kieran said. "Sylvain picked it out for me this afternoon! He's so nice!"

"That's very… nice." Yuuri drew off his own mantle, revealing his over-endowed Demon King costume. Which was… rather inappropriate for a date with a girl this young, he suddenly suspected. He tied the mask on over his blushing face. _Damn. This kind of thing is really funny with Wolfram. Oh, that day I brought back 'Conrad's wedding gifts' from the sex toy store in Akihabara!_ These days, he and Wolfram could go into MegaBunny themselves and have a grand time. "Ah, it's a… demon king," he said, unnecessarily.

"Oh," she said, eyes a bit wide.

"Whoa-OH-hah!" commented Morgif.

They were escorted to… exactly the same gallery he'd shared with Deanna. _Come to think of it, _Yuuri realized,_ I told Sylvain at lunch what Deanna wore…_

"Now what do we do?" asked Kieran ingenuously.

"Aha! Ah… eat?" Yuuri suggested. They ordered. He attempted in vain to get a conversation started about her interests. Kieran answered monosyllabically and peered over the gallery railing looking at other people's costumes. She had orchid perfume on. _I hate orchid perfume. Did I…? No, I didn't tell Sylvain I hate orchid perfume._

"_Yuck!_" squealed Kieran when the deviled eyeballs and blood-dripping turkey haunches appeared. "_Ewww!_ Take it away! Oh, Yuuri, you're the _Maou_. Make them get us some good food."

Yuuri couldn't imagine the superb swordsman and experienced cavalry officer Wolfram getting queasy about real blood and gore, much less theme food. He said to the waiter, "Aha… Um. I'll eat the food we already ordered. Could you perhaps bring some, er, undecorated deviled eggs? Would that work for you, Kieran?"

She pouted. "I'd have to look at _yours?_ Oh, well. I just won't look, then."

_This is going to be a very long night, _Yuuri concluded. He smiled wanly at the waiter, who returned the thin smile in, he suspected, more pity than anger.

_To hell with the small talk. Maybe talking about something that matters will get her to open up._

"Do you like children, Kieran?"

She shrugged. "Well, wet-nurses and nannies handle most of it."

Yuuri couldn't help glancing at her perfect young breasts, remembering how he and Wolfram used to strip to cuddle newborn Bertram to their bare skin and warm heart-beats, while they fed him his bottle. _Next topic, please…_

"So, I hear Sylvain's the front-runner for the next Lord Donaghie." She waggled a petulant hand so-so. "The Tark's very powerful. Are you happy with his plans for rebuilding Donaghie's economy?"

"Huh?"

_Huh, indeed._ Though, in fairness, when he was 15, he'd have been hard pressed to listen through today's Aristocrat's meeting. These days… he'd hung on every word when Wolfram briefed him on the challenges, and asked many questions. _She's just… young._ "How many other men are you considering for your marriage?"

"Well, seriously? Only you," she mooned at him, batting eyelashes over green eyes, which suddenly didn't look familiar at all. Not even demonic. More like… vapid.

"I, ah, am not looking to take a demotion to Lord Donaghie," suggested Yuuri, as neutrally as possible.

"But _I_ want a promotion to_ queen!_" replied Kieran, in dark glee. She added, _"Silly!"_

_A very, **very** long night._

-oOo-

"So, how was the picnic with Kieran?" Aldrich asked Manfred. They were sharing a bath in Aldrich's quarters, Kieran's gift box of sweetly pastel fizzy bath ducks standing at the ready. He selected one and squinted past it at Manfred, considering its deployment. The duck dove to its fizzy death held just below Manfred's navel, while Aldrich gave him a long deep kiss.

"Ahh… what was the question again?"

"Children, yours, four of. Picnic." Aldrich selected another duck.

"It went well. Um, by now everybody suspected anyway, so getting honest was a big relief all around, I think. Especially for me. Seeing all four of them together finally…" They met each other's eyes in a soft smile. "I'll treasure it. _However._ Too serious. My turn to kill a duck." He pushed Aldrich down into the water and fizzed a duck on his nipples with a long kiss. "Mm. When are you going to tell me how this got started, anyway?"

Aldrich sternly admonished the next duck, "We do not acknowledge or respond to inquiries regarding fowl play. Not ever. I'm sorry. Now you must die." He dove the duck to Manfred's tender parts and held it fizzing there while taking another deep kiss.

"Mm. Good duck," sighed Manfred. "Not sorry I asked. Was Friedrich trying to cheer you up about something?"

"No, these were a gift from our charming young Kieran. I suspect Sylvain helped."

"Oh, Shinou!" Manfred laughed. "I trust no one explained it to her?"

"Explain what, pray tell?" Aldrich inquired of the next goner in line. "There's nothing to explain. All ducks must die." He lifted Manfred slightly and nestled the duck to fizz beneath him, while pressing Manfred tightly to his chest for another kiss.

"Ahh! That's two in a row for you. So many, many ducks…"

"You were gone forever this afternoon. I was afraid something went wrong," prompted Aldrich again.

"Oh, we were back by mid-afternoon. Then Wolfram and I had a long heart to heart. I think I finally got him to see, that it really isn't up to Wolfram what Yuuri being _'finished'_ with this girl-thing looks like. If Yuuri says it's over, and he wants them back together, and Wolfram wants him back then… get back together already." He selected a duck and complained to it, "So many conditions! Sorry, duckie. _Unconditional _love works." And Aldrich's private parts got fizzed.

"We could save some ducks for tomorrow," suggested Manfred to his molten lover.

"No. All ducks must die, on day of receipt," said Aldrich, rallying to select another duck. "I wonder how their date is going."

Manfred laughed. "Godawful, I imagine. Oh, wait, you've got to hear this plan – Greta and Kieran came up with it." He conveyed the would-be matchmakers' plan.

They howled in laughter in each others arms – several more ducks dissolved to their deaths along the way. "Oh," said Aldrich, still chuckling. "That's so lame it might work. And Wolfram and Sylvain _know_ about this stupid plan?"

Manfred gave an exaggerated nod. "They're _accomplices._ That's probably how Sylvain came to help Kieran buy fizzy bath ducks, come to think of it."

"Ah," crooned Aldrich to the next death row duck, "To be young and stupid again. When problems in love were so simply solved." He dunked Manfred into the tub so he could fizz his neck and ear.

"What do you do with the wooden ducks? Most people think you collect them."

"My servants know the dark truth. The hollow ones with resin paint burn especially well. Flaming flotilla bath."

"Should I be concerned about this duck fetish?"

"It is not a _fetish_," Aldrich explained to a duck. "_You_ don't turn me on – _he_ does. _You,_ are merely a bath toy. Which I play with. In the bath. And… you die." Manfred laughed as Aldrich fizzed his feet.

"What are you going to tell them in the marriage counseling?"

Aldrich shrugged. "They learned something from all this, Shinou knows what, it's their lesson, not mine. Make them verbalize that. Probably simplify their expectations. Put a little more effort into loving each other. A little less into being neurotic. Align to a joint vision. Get off each other's toes. The usual stuff."

Manfred laughed softly. "Sounds good." Aldrich always insisted he said the same old stuff over and over again. At the Majutsu Institute, he was an adjunct healing professor, teaching one-on-one tutorials on love, to students whom the faculty felt were way too judgmental with their patients. He gave only one lecture a year, to the healing and nobility students. Every year, he used the same thesis – unconditional love as a healing principle in leadership. Same thesis, yes, but he never repeated an example. Manfred and the other professors attended every year, and hadn't been bored yet.

"Final four ducks," reported Manfred, straddling Aldrich, privates to privates, and wriggling. "I suggest mass execution, right _here_."

-oOo-

Kieran's custom deviled eggs arrived. Yuuri finally raised his now-cold turkey haunch to his mouth.

"Let's dance now, Yuuri!" she insisted.

Yuuri chewed, and decided, he might as well. Sighing, he laid down the turkey leg and let himself be dragged to the dance floor. Kieran insisted on ballroom dancing, which didn't really work with the costumes – Morgif was bruising Yuuri's thigh.

Yuuri's eyes narrowed, muscular memory calling something to mind. _Hang on. I danced with this girl at the ball, and she was intelligent and with it. Why tonight…_

He felt a draft behind him, and all of a sudden Kieran seized his face in both hands, said, "Kiss me, Yuuri!" and planted a kiss on his mouth.

Politeness be damned, he'd had enough. He held her at arm's length and demanded, "Kieran, just what do you think you're doing?"

"Hey!" yelled Sylvain from behind him. "That wasn't part of the deal!"

Yuuri let go of Kieran instantly, and turned in surprise. Kieran came up behind to whisper in his ear, "I'm Wolfram's _sister_. Sh. Don't tell anybody." He turned back to stare at her and she gave him a suddenly intelligent evil green demon smile. "Marry Wolfram, Yuuri. You're in love with _him_."

Dumbfounded, Yuuri watched as Kieran crossed to Sylvain – costumed as a shark – and he slapped her. And she grinned and slapped him back. And the whole dance floor erupted in applause as they fell into each other's arms.

A sexy blond fire fox, his hip thrown out aggressively and arms crossed, demanded, "_That_ was your plan?"

"_Wolfram!_" Yuuri breathed. He'd never been so happy to hear that husky bedroom voice. He stepped to him, held his furry red arms and said, "It _is_ you, isn't it, Wolfram, love?"

"Of course it's me, wimp. But you can't kiss me _now_. That would reward them for coming up with such a _lame_ –"

Yuuri kissed him anyway, long and hard. He broke for air, and murmured, "I missed you, oh, I missed you!"

"I missed you, too, wimp," Wolfram breathed, and threw his arms around Yuuri's neck to kiss him some more. They rested nose to nose in each other's arms. "Are we back to being fiancés yet?"

"Want me to slap you again?"

"No, let me do it first this time." And Wolfram hauled off and slapped him – _hard_.

Yuuri, hand to cherry-red slapped face, laughed. "Oh, now let me, my love!" And slapped Wolfram back as hard as he could – which wasn't nearly as hard.

Wolfram crooked a smile. "_Wimp._" And the dance floor gave another round of applause for the two betrothed couples.

"Well, it worked, I suppose," allowed Efram, predictably dressed as a green pixie.

"It was a _good_ plan," insisted Greta, dressed as a gnome.

Wolfram turned and crossed his arms again, regarding the girls. "It was a_ lame _plan," he insisted. "Sylvain, I can't believe you let these –"

"Shh," whispered Yuuri, grabbing him. "It worked. Leave it at that. Love, I've wanted to bring you and Greta and Efram to this place since I first laid eyes on it. Dance with me. I want you in my arms forever. Hold me, and don't let go."

Wolfram melted into his arms, "No, I won't let go."

And with the right person in his arms, Yuuri found it to be a very hot date indeed.

-oOo-

_Please review?_


	11. Family Counsel

**Kyou Kara Maou – Yuuri's Hot Date**

Summary: Wolfram challenges Yuuri to have a date with a girl. Loosely part of my Epilogue story arc.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to _Kyou Kara Maou_ of course.

AN:_ I wasn't happy with Chapter 10 as an ending – too abrupt for such a leisurely paced story full of inner reflection. I hope this is better… well, let me know…_

**Chapter 11 – Family Counsel**

The Aristocrats' Summit was over, most of the Aristocrats having departed that morning. But the von Bielenfelds stayed another night for visiting, and the delayed promised marriage counseling. Kieran and Sylvain had lingered as well.

Yuuri found Wolfram already waiting in the salon, looking rather protective of a list he was composing. _Laundry list, no doubt,_ thought Yuuri sourly, and started considering his own for this _'marriage counseling'_ session. _We're not even married, yet! Yes, but you have three children, four if we count Efram._ These and similar meditations put him in an ever dwindling mood for this _'counseling'_.

He rose to greet Aldrich as he arrived, and narrowed his eyes when Friedrich and Manfred followed him in. "Ah…!" he began._ I didn't agree to this, damnit!_

"Please, relax, Yuuri," replied Aldrich smoothly, as the three older men got comfortable, Friedrich closest to Yuuri and Wolfram. "We felt my father is the best person to lead this discussion. Chichi has the most positive experience with marriage of anyone I've ever known. Chichi, you weren't much older than Wolfram when you first married, right? So…over four centuries married for love, and now well over two centuries in a political marriage."

Friedrich nodded and held out a hand for Wolfram's note. Yuuri felt relieved that Wolfram looked intimidated, too. _Yes, there is a man who intimidates me more than Manfred…_

Friedrich continued the introduction. "Aldrich has taken a break from marriage counseling since his wife passed away last year. He wanted to help the two of you, but Manfred and I are concerned about _him_. And… in truth, Manfred and Aldrich are more experienced in severe relationship problems. The two of you have an enviable relationship. It just needs a little fine-tuning."

Manfred and Aldrich nodded. Wolfram gnawed his pen, a pillow clutched in his lap. Yuuri sat as far from him as possible on the short sofa they shared. Friedrich calmly reviewed Wolfram's list of _issues_ and glanced over the two young men and their body language.

"Interesting," he said. "Do you not have a written list, Yuuri? Have you given some thought to your issues? I think taking a little time to write them down would be very helpful."

Friedrich sent Wolfram away to arrange tea. At first Yuuri thought he'd still be too self-conscious to write. But once Wolfram was gone, the older men settled into a soft-voiced conversation about Efram's education, removing their attention from him. Rather than feeling awkward, he ended up being more focused than usual. He found it fairly easy to identify and list his key turning-point decisions of the past few days and use those as the basis of his list. Aldrich and Manfred were dispatched to bring Wolfram and the snacks back, while Friedrich read over his list.

"It feels strange, talking about our relationship with three men who are all straight." Yuuri laughed nervously.

Friedrich glanced up in mild surprise. _Who said we were straight?_ "Well, we're not going to chat about sex, anyway. It's a relationship. Everyone has male and female aspects. And most Mazoku remember lives as the other gender, sooner or later."

_Aha! That's right, I used to be… Suzanna…_ Yuuri mulled on that until the other men returned and everyone settled back in.

Friedrich began, "I find these lists very interesting. So here's Wolfram, a passionate firebug, gets angry and lets the world know it right then and there, a flash and the anger's gone. And Yuuri, I read you as the slow-burner type, like me – you let small irritants slide, until they build up beyond tolerance. Then you get mad and stay mad about the whole backlog and use your anger to get things fixed."

Wolfram and Yuuri both nodded rueful agreement with this assessment.

"Now here's the interesting thing," said Friedrich. "Wolfram blows up over something right here and now, but his list contains, oh, years worth of niggling irritants, doesn't it? And Yuuri, who actually blows up when he reaches critical mass of niggling irritants, has a list focused right here and now. And what's the problem that you still want fixed? That you don't _trust _each other after what's happened the past week. The miscommunications have more or less been straightened out, behaviors revised, apologies accepted. But you're not sure this won't happen again. Isn't that essentially the problem now? Restoring trust?"

Yuuri and Wolfram were both sitting forward rapt now, nodding. So far none of this session was what they were expecting.

"Well, you both know that you can trust each other on the big things. Right? Majutsu-powered monster puppets, Mizrati marauders, kidnappers, global catastrophe, life and death – you can trust each other absolutely. But on the little stuff? The day to day adjustments of making a life together, ruling a kingdom, raising children together? You don't trust each other. And you know what? You're right not to trust each other! Because your reactions belie your words. Wolfram, there's not a single item on this list that would cause you to go ballistic like you did last week. Yuuri knows that. I'm sure he stopped listening to these things long ago. Yuuri, there's nothing on your list of conclusions that would have prevented last week's blowup either.

"Gentlemen, my goal here isn't to pick on your lists. But they won't fix your breach of trust. Because if you're telling each other this stuff, essentially you're lying to each other, and deep down, you each know that. Your words don't mean a thing! The good news is, they don't have to. These details in the outside world – Wolfram has a sister, Bertram and Frieda exist – they don't mean anything in and of themselves. It's the emotional load on them that causes tears.

"Wolfram, what was _at stake_ when you thought of Yuuri meeting Kieran? The fear?"

Wolfram blinked, then gulped, considering. "I… I was afraid of losing Yuuri."

Friedrich nodded. "One. Who else was affected in your feared scenario?"

"Um, well, Kieran. All the kids. If we broke up…" Wolfram stopped and cleared his throat, near tears, "then… our work together, my… home…"

Friedrich stopped him gently. "Good, thank you, Wolfram. It's alright. The point was, everything you hold most dear was at stake. But Yuuri missed that part.

"Now, Yuuri, let's say you sit down to supper and pick up a strange spork. Not being a connoisseur of fine sporks, you… _eat with it_. Wolfram suddenly goes ballistic – blows up about as high as he did last week, spewing utter gibberish about Great-Aunt Petunia and the Daffodil Curse. You're sitting there agog saying, _'Hunh?!?'_ Last week's Yuuri came to the incorrect conclusion that Wolfram had lost his mind. This week's Yuuri is older and wiser. He is not easily distracted by entertaining spork tales. He concludes – what?"

Yuuri nodded slowly, almost smiling. "By Wolfram's reaction, I see that he's frightened of losing all that's most dear to him. So, I focus on understanding that and reassuring him. Then deal with the spork."

"Gold rose answer." Friedrich nodded, pleased. Bielenfeld first prize was typically a gold rose on a blue ribbon.

"'_Lost his mind?'_" repeated a quavering Wolfram.

"Ah… yeah," said Yuuri reluctantly. He took Wolfram's hand and held it. "When you tried to apologize for going to the baths, but I didn't really accept your apology? And… I told you to call me Sire… I'd decided your behavior was so extreme that you needed to learn a lesson, that… I couldn't tolerate that anymore. And after you told me that you didn't… do anything… at the baths, I… was still afraid that you were too unstable, too untrustworthy. And I couldn't say it, because… Wolfram, I know how much you're afraid that Mizrat really _did_ make you… unstable –"

"OK, stop," said Friedrich gently. He put a hand on Wolfram's knee to help stabilize him, Yuuri still holding his hand. "Wolfram, you're not crazy. Emotional, yes. Passionate, yes. Crazy, no. Or rather, no crazier than the rest of us. As you said, Yuuri, he was simply afraid, for all he holds most dear. Yes, his words didn't explain his reaction. Spork gibberish, the lot of it. And Wolfram will do it again. We all do it."

"I'm not crazy?" Wolfram whispered, still looking devastated.

"Definitely not, pretty vixen," said Manfred. Aldrich nodded assurance. Wolfram rallied a little.

Friedrich held onto Wolfram's knee, but looked at Yuuri appraisingly. "Speak, Yuuri. You're still concerned. Believe me, it's safe to speak in this room. Wolfram can take it with all of us by his side, especially if you hold him."

"I… don't want to hurt him."

Friedrich nodded, but gestured him to go on.

"I… when I… decided to keep going, not call an end to this date thing with Wolfram, after the baths thing was explained… I was thinking about Aldrich and Glynda." He glanced over in concern, but Manfred had a hand on Aldrich's shoulder. "I was thinking about Bertram and… you getting suicidal and… hostage taking and… that it really wasn't OK to keep going like this."

Wolfram made a strangled squeak and squeezed back into the sofa, away from Yuuri, face crumpling. Friedrich took his hand away from Wolfram's knee, gesturing to Yuuri to take over.

As Wolfram fell apart, Yuuri felt as though he'd been released from a spell. Suddenly calm and clear, he folded Wolfram into his arms and held him. "I love you. We'll handle this. We will. Sh, love."

Wolfram dissolved completely in his arms. "I don't… oh, Shinou, I can't trust me anymore! I'll never be over that damned Mizrat thing, and –"

"Sh, love," crooned Yuuri, stroking the ever-tousled blond hair. "I believe in you. I misunderstood, but that's over now. I've got your back. Even when you can't believe in you, please believe that I believe in you. I love you. You're alright, Wolfram."

When Yuuri had managed to gentle Wolfram back from his terror, Friedrich began speaking again softly, with vast compassion. "Wolfram, you're not alone. Mizrat was your own unique wound. But please know that your father, and Aldrich, and I, we each bear some unique trauma analogous to yours. Probably half the people you meet, as well. A world full of the walking wounded. Some heal better, some worse. Some wounds are so awful, the best way to slowly heal one's own wound is to help others. That's what the three of us did. Well, that, and some bizarre personal quirks to blow off steam." He shot a crooked green-eyed demon smile at his son and Manfred. They blinked blandly and ingenously back at him. This surprised an almost-chuckle out of Wolfram.

Friedrich poured himself some more tea, and freshened Wolfram's cup. "So. Trust. You know you can trust each other in life-threatening situations. Where you broke trust was with your emotions. Some people talk of giving each other their hearts in love. Poetic, but not very instructive. I prefer to think of it as giving each other one's _pain_, one's squishy bits and fears, one's vulnerabilities, as a sacred trust. If you live any length of time at all, you _will_ hurt. You _will_ fail. You _will_ collect regrets and wounds. Your relationship is where you can bring those things to heal. The words… may always amount to spork tales, really. But we can understand each other's feelings, our need for security, for someone to love us anyway, to help us be brave again. That kind of sacred trust. Do you think you can trust each other again now?"

Wolfram and Yuuri nodded at each other, and rested their foreheads together.

"Then you've accomplished a great deal today. Well done. And _I_ have babbled long enough. Are you two wrung out, or could we go on a bit longer? I'd hate for you to miss Manfred and Aldrich's spiels – they're very good."

Wolfram looked at Yuuri, and said hesitantly, "I'd… like to hear them." Yuuri nodded and squeezed Wolfram's hand.

After a brief consultation, Aldrich went first. "First off, I have to congratulate the two of you. You are… so lucky. You truly do love each other, and there is so much in your relationship that is beautiful and strong and true. I loved Chichi's take on emotional trust – that's a rare treasure! I would point out, though, that Chichi was speaking from his experience with the great love of his life, his first wife. Chichi, I really can't picture you giving your soft squishy bits as a sacred trust to Hahaue, hm?"

Friedrich chuckled. "You might be surprised, but, for the most part, no. Alana and I aren't each other's closest confidante. The age and cultural gaps are too vast."

Aldrich nodded. "Yet they still have a magnificent adult marriage. They cooperate, they fight fair. They raised me with a minimum of conflict. They take care of business and act on each other's behalf. They never embarrass each other. The terms of their marriage are draconian, and there is no reprieve. Their marriage contract is in force until _all three of us_ are dead. But, they're content with their lot, I think?"

"Very," agreed Friedrich. "It's worked out surprisingly well. Present company very much included, son." Father and son smiled at each other.

"Thank you, Chichi. The point is, marriage for duty is not a bad deal. It's a whole lot easier than marriage for emotional satisfaction. If you develop _both_, you double the strength of your foundation. Yuuri, you already heard my standard spiel the other day at lunch – repeated by Toby. _'Even if you marry for love, align to duty, then you'll still be pulling together when the romance cools'_. I encourage Aristocrats to keep an eye to their duty in a marriage, and to the higher purpose it serves. Aligning to your duties, helps you keep working together. It provides structure to fall back on days when the emotional foundation of the marriage is problematic. It keeps you from stomping on each other's toes. And keeps you from getting hypnotized by silly spork tales.

"So what is this duty? Wolfram, what is Yuuri's duty?"

"To rule Shin Makoku, of course," replied Wolfram.

"And your duty to him in that regard?"

"I support him as his political advisor."

"Exactly. However, this week… how well did you keep mindful of that duty?"

Wolfram blushed scarlet. "I… badly."

Aldrich nodded. "You were a public embarrassment to him. And Yuuri? What's Wolfram's duty? Aside from supporting you in yours – he also has his own duty, in which you support him in turn."

"He, ah, raises our children, primarily," said Yuuri. He wasn't used to thinking in these terms.

"And your duty to him in that regard?"

"Ah… I'm not sure," Yuuri admitted.

"Wolfram? What do you see as Yuuri's duty in regard to you raising the children?"

Wolfram stole an irritable glance sideways at Yuuri. "The same as mine – to support my authority. Not to undermine me with the children."

"Oh," said Yuuri. "Greta going to the ball. Ah… yeah. Sorry."

Aldrich continued, "OK, those are your main _shared_ duties. I would also suggest that you encourage each other to pursue your _separate_ duties. Yuuri's… I don't know, aside from his friendships and his birth family. Wolfram's, I do know – he's _my_ vassal, not yours, Yuuri. Wolfram is no longer a military commander. I ask you to support him to find other avenues of expression as a Lord von Bielenfeld, independent from being your advisor and raising your children. Wolfram cannot be _only_ your servant. It demeans him.

"Chichi talked to you about _trust_ – deep emotional trust. I'm talking to you about _respect_. Yes, you're lovers, you're cute, you're fun to be with, yada yada. That's nice. But you are also _men_ – the highest Aristocrats of Shin Makoku. I encourage you to take great pride and satisfaction in carrying out your duties, and to respect each other and your work."

Aldrich took their lists back from Manfred, who'd read them last. "I suggest you rewrite your lists." He flamed the pages. "If you write them _together_ instead of _at_ each other, and list your shared and separate duties, I think you'll find a lot of the little neuroses of marriage take care of themselves. Give each other respect and scope, to live up to the very highest in yourselves."

Wolfram and Yuuri both sat up taller through this. Wolfram said, "I do want that. I've been… hiding in our relationship. Since Mizrat. Yuuri? Is that… OK with you? If I take up more responsibilities as a Lord von Bielenfeld?"

Yuuri nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. I'd encourage you to do that. I love having you here, and with the children, of course, but… Wolfram, love – I never meant to demean you as a Lord in your own right."

Wolfram smiled at him. "Alright, my liege Aldrich. This isn't the right meeting, but… Let's do that."

Aldrich smiled. "Excellent. Then I hope to see you at Squires' conference after Manfred gets back from Donaghie."

"Chichiue?" Wolfram asked, surprised. "You're leaving again so soon?"

"Yes, didn't Efram…? No, I guess not," said Manfred. "Efram and I are leaving tomorrow with Aldrich and Friedrich. I'll get Efram settled back into school, then head out to Donaghie to survey their social needs, public health and such. I plan to look in on Dougal von Donaghie, see what can be done about improving his quality of life, possibly transferring both him and Kieran to the Bielenfeld Institute. And visit Pitchblende, and see how well the population is recovering from the poison. Then report back at the Squires' conference."

Aldrich explained, "The Donaghie refugees flooding into Bielenfeld are in pretty bad shape. And they're likely the strong ones. We'll probably ask the conference to extend Bielenfeld aid until Sylvain can get Donaghie back on its feet enough to provide social services. They have nothing now. And public health is fundamental to any hope of economic recovery."

Yuuri leaned forward, listening intently. "Please don't take too much on for Bielenfeld, Aldrich. All of Shin Makoku would be willing to help."

"I appreciate that, Sire," replied Aldrich. "But Bielenfeld excels at disaster relief, and our public loves doing it – it gives meaning to life and our wealth and so on. And Wolfram has agreed to attend. Wolfram, if you feel Bielenfeld is… over-dominating Donaghie, I hope you'll speak up."

Manfred interjected, "But this meeting was about your relationship issues…"

Aldrich smiled. "Yes, sorry, Manfred."

Manfred grinned. "It's alright. We know we can't take you anywhere without it getting political, Aldrich. We love you anyway. So. My turn?"

Aldrich said, "Yes. Though I would like to point out – it was a hell of a lot more interesting and productive than a spork tale. Which was actually my point. I'll shut up now. Yes. Your turn, Manfred."

"Well, we all know my experience level with marriage," said Manfred. "Wolfram and Yuuri are way ahead of me. _However. _I do have some experience dealing with emotional problems that are too hot to handle. And raising kids. I'd like to suggest, for you two, that the kids are emotionally loaded."

Friedrich and Aldrich were nodding emphatically. Wolfram and Yuuri still looked puzzled.

"Wolfram… losing Yuuri would be bad enough. But are you capable of rational thought about _anything_, if you're afraid of losing the children? Or if you're afraid that the children are in danger?"

"No!" cried Wolfram, with every fiber of his being. "Oh…"

Manfred nodded. "Yuuri, at the thought of your engagement breaking up… did you happen to get… concerned? decisive? panicky? … regarding the children?"

"Completely flipped out," agreed Yuuri, looking nervous at the very thought. "Ah… at several points, I could easily have made up with Wolfram, until I thought of the children."

"Exactly. Your children are your greatest asset, your greatest joy. And your greatest risk. In any emotional situation, add any threat to your access to your children, and the emotional stakes go cataclysmic. Get the children out of the stakes. In _any_ conflict between the two of you. In fact… I'd encourage you to come to agreement on that – what happens if you break up – right _now_, before we leave this room. You're both good enough parents. Can you make that commitment to each other? That you will support each other as parents, even if you break off your relationship with each other?"

"Yes," they both answered slowly, looking at each other.

"So what happens?" Manfred persisted.

"Greta lives with me," said Yuuri, "but she's old enough to go back and forth, as she chooses, if Wolfram doesn't stay here. And I'd encourage her to spend significant time with him and the little ones."

Wolfram nodded gratefully. "Where Frieda lives is up to Adelbert. Bertram lives with me. But… if I move away, I'll bring him back to visit, and encourage a strong relationship with you, Yuuri. I was raised that way, and… you know how much I believe I benefited from my relationship with Chichiue. Believe me, I'd support your relationship with Bertram. And if Frieda is still with me, the same for her."

Yuuri took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and they shared a long embrace. "That… wow. That took a load off my mind I didn't even realize was there."

Wolfram nodded. "Me, too."

Manfred summed up. "Trust, respect. But especially, trust and respect each other _as parents_. Or things shall go ballistic and become well-nigh impossible to solve. Anyway, that was my spiel."

"Thank you, Chichiue!" said Wolfram, heartfelt. "Thank you to all of you. This isn't at all what I was expecting… But it helped. I feel like… well, a lot more secure. And like I know what to do next, and that it will work."

Yuuri nodded. "Yes, thank you, Manfred, Aldrich, Friedrich. For ourselves, and the kids. Thank you."

Manfred and Friedrich smiled and said, "You're welcome."

Aldrich said, "You're welcome. And thank _you_. For working to have the best marriage you can. We have a tendency to think of our marriage woes as a private agony, but it isn't all that private. Your children, obviously, but your whole extended family, the servants, and through your positions, the happiness of the entire realm is affected by the quality of your marriage."

"It really is impossible to take him anywhere without it getting political," Friedrich said to Manfred.

"I'm surprised he left out the theology," agreed Manfred.

"It was implicit," suggested Friedrich. Manfred laughed.

Aldrich grinned wryly. "Yes, well. That _is_ why I took up marriage counseling. Anyway. Are we done here?"

They got up to hugs all around.

-oOo-

After the group broke up, Wolfram hung back a little and tugged on Yuuri's hand.

"Hm?"

"Yuuri, do you mind if we… I'd like to find Efram. Is that…OK?"

Yuuri squeezed his hand with a soft smile. "I'll come with you."

They found him in the nursery, playing with Bertram and Frieda in the pillow-piled floor-wrestling corner. He quickly turned away and wiped tears from his face, but then turned back to them with his customary bravado. "Hey, hey. You had a long meeting – serious stuff, huh?"

Wolfram and Yuuri half-lay down with him on the pillows, toddlers in the middle. Wolfram toyed with one of Bertram's springy green-blond cowlicks, and murmured, "Chichiue said you're leaving us. Bertram's going to miss you, pixie."

"Eh. I'm just another '_not-Chewy'_ and '_not-Wimpy'_ to him, right, chu trickster?"

Frieda giggled. Bertram said, "Effum," and tripped over a pillow into his arms, then giggled as well.

Yuuri said, "I understand you're working on three degrees back at the Institute? You're such a phenomenal student, Efram!"

Wolfram had missed that discussion, and looked at Yuuri thoughtfully. "Well… I wish I'd finished my healing degree before I got too far into adolescence. You might want to finish that one first, pixie, instead of doing them round-robin. Just… finish one at a time." Efram showed no interest in this line of discussion. "Have you told Greta yet? That you're leaving?" No answer. "Hey, I just agreed to come up for the Squire conference after Chichiue gets back from Donaghie. I should bring Greta, shouldn't I, Yuuri? She could help you run the children's party, right, Efram?"

That made Efram look up and grin. "That'd be a blast! Those parties are a ton of work. I could sure use her help."

"Good, it's settled, then," said Yuuri. "Be sure and tell her, OK?"

Efram looked down at Bertram and hugged him some more. "Yeah…"

"Oh, there you are," said Manfred. He and Cecilie came in and joined them. He ruffled Efram's hair. "You know, pixie, I agreed not to tell everybody because you were going to. Remember?"

"Yeah… Chichiue, I don't want to go!"

Manfred plonked down next to him, and held out his arms for a Frieda tackle. Cecilie perched on a table nearby, hand to mouth, gazing inside at bittersweet memories, by the look of it. "Mm," Manfred said. "Saying good-bye is hard. Even when you know it's time to go. It's been a while since you've seen your mother and your other siblings, though."

"She kicked me out," said Efram. "All she writes in her letters is nag, nag, nag about my degrees."

"Mm, when we see her, maybe you could find a constructive way to complain a little about that. That you never hear about the kids, and your step-father's new program at the Institute, and whether Lord Krist is still talking about a Krist Majutsu Institute. That would tell her you care, but prod her into something else to talk about besides nagging. I'm sure she doesn't like being a nag."

"I'm not so sure about that," said Efram darkly.

Cecilie laughed softly. "Well, Effie, _I'm_ sure about that."

Efram scowled at her a little – he hated being called Effie. "Chichiue, I want to go to Donaghie, with _you_."

"You're welcome to come," said Manfred neutrally. "Actually, you could make a very good argument that it supports your degrees in healing… and nobility." He scratched his nose ruefully.

"My degrees are in healing, majutsu theory, and counter-houjutsu," said Efram, eyes narrowing. "Not nobility."

"Aldrich… would like you to get a degree in nobility as well," said Manfred. "You weren't a Lord when you chose your degrees, pixie. They're awfully… technical. For a Lord."

Efram looked at him in outrage. Wolfram chuckled. "I predict you won't last until Bielenfeld Pier, Efram. Aldrich will talk you into it, and you'll be all over the idea. It is a much easier degree, though."

"So I don't have to stay in Bielenfeld?" asked Efram, hopefully.

"No, after Donaghie, you'd stay in Bielenfeld a while," said Manfred. "_And_ – you can only come with me to Donaghie if your mother agrees. Otherwise… You don't have to live with her, fire pixie. In fact, Aldrich and I would prefer you live at the Castle. But I won't let you come to Donaghie without her blessing. And both of us expect you to finish _at least one_ degree. Sometime soon. Please? Then you could split your time between here and Bielenfeld again, if you'd like."

"We'll miss you, Efram," said Yuuri.

"Yeah, yeah." Efram got up. "I'd better go talk to Greta."

"Thank you, son," Manfred murmured. He and Cecilie drifted out after him, exchanging sad smiles with Wolfram and Yuuri.

"You know," said Yuuri thoughtfully, once they were alone with the toddlers, "at the moment, I can't think of anything that matters less to me than whether I could have married a girl. I love you, Wolfram. I love our life. I care about _this_." He waved an arm encompassing them, their children, the castle, the family aspirations for self, and for country. "With you, by my side."

Wolfram swallowed. "Me, too," he whispered. "Though… what _did_ you decide about the girl thing, Yuuri?"

Yuuri laughed and shook his head. "Spork tales, the lot of it." Wolfram looked down and away, unhappily. He stroked his lover's blond hair, and added gently, "I'm sure, Wolfram. You being a guy doesn't matter. I love you as you are. Because you are a guy, I love a guy. I don't want anyone else. This is our life, and I love it. I don't want another."

Wolfram smiled shyly, and then rallied to goad Yuuri. "So. But you haven't _proven_ it, have you?"

"What do you mean?" asked Yuuri in alarm.

"I mean," said Wolfram, grabbing Yuuri's chin, and looking him menacingly in the eye, "that you've barely made love to me for _days_! Wimp."

Yuuri laughed out loud. "We made love when we got home from the Newt!"

Wolfram dismissed this with a wave. "We were tired."

"_And_ the next morning. _And_ the next night."

"Mm, still tired. Not enough enthusiasm," declared Wolfram. "I'm not convinced."

"Then we should fix that. Promptly. And thoroughly."

"_Very_ promptly," agreed Wolfram, ringing a bell for the nanny to reappear. "And very, _very_ thoroughly. I've got the rest of the afternoon free…"

-oOo-

Manfred lingered in the hall that night, looking into Yuuri and Wolfram's bedroom from the door. For Efram's last night, the young couple had all the kids piled into their bed for a bed-time story. Greta had brought Kieran along, already in a grey-edged pink nightgown.

Aldrich came up behind him softly, and put a hand on his shoulder. Dietrich ran into the room ahead of him and bounced up onto the bed to join in. "All of them together," Aldrich murmured.

Manfred nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He squeezed Aldrich's hand.

"What are we looking at?" inquired Sylvain, walking up. "Aha! Pig pile!" He grinned at the Lords at the door and went in to climb on the bed as well. Kieran shined a smile at him shyly, from across the bed. Sylvain grinned back and selected Frieda to cuddle.

Manfred and Aldrich gazed together on the happy scene for a few minutes. "It's all worth it," Manfred eventually murmured.

Aldrich nodded and smiled at him. "Let's go join them."

-oOo-

_Please review?_


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